Proper Path to Glory: Directors Cut
by stealthmomo
Summary: Expanded, updated, and continued. Follow the adventures of Yoshika, Lynette, Charlotte, and Francesca as they stumble across the secrets hidden beneath the MAGUS program — and discover that the Neuroi may not be the only enemy they must face. THE Science-Fiction-Action-Comedy-War-Story-Magical-Girl-Lesbian-Romance novella you have been waiting for. "Strike Witches hajimaru yo!"
1. Prelude: A Little Peaceful Day

**A/N:** After a 2-year hiatus, I finally have the time and the mindset to return and to finish this story. To my new readers, I hope you enjoy this story. It represents my deep love for the Strike Witches characters and universe. What started out as a Lynnoshika 'ship fic, for a short-story challenge, turned into something _much_ larger in scope. To readers of the original PPTG, the base story remains the same, although I have expanded the narrative in a few places, and polished it up. The overall story remains the same until Chapter 15, which I would suggest revisiting, at the least.

Set during Season One, prior to Yoshika's meeting the humaniform Neuroi, the story starts from baseline canon but veers with the addition of two important elements; a full blown relationship between Yoshika and Lynette and an earlier, more insidious plan by General Trevor Maloney. My 'Reading Steiner' predicts a .50 worldline divergence.

Apologies for the ridiculous wait, and thank you for sticking with me. I promise updates shorter than a geological age from here on through, and an end in sight. As always, comments, observations, and criticisms are welcome and encouraged. Action! Adventure! Yuri! What more could you ask for? Please enjoy this chapter.

"Strike Witches hajimaru yo!" *Strike Witches starts now!*

 _Strike Witches & World Witches Series is ©2017 Kadokawa Shoten_

* * *

 **[Prelude] A Little Peaceful Day**

"Una volta che abbiate conosciuto il volo, camminerete sulla terra guardando il cielo, perché là siete stati e là desidererete tornare."* ~ Leonardo da Vinci

 _* "_ _Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return."_

* * *

 ** _\- July 17, 1943  
\- The Strait of Dover, Empire of Britannia_**

The beaches in Britannia could hardly be called beaches as far as Charlotte Yeager was concerned. Sparse grainy brown sand, littered with rocks ranging in size from pea gravel to small boulders, and abrupt drop-offs near the water's edge. She missed the beaches of her native Liberion. California, while it still existed, had sported some of the most beautiful beach-front on earth.

Only two short years earlier she had been bumming those beaches with her high school friends. Swimming, sunning, camping…not a care in the world.

After her high school graduation, she had enjoyed an idyllic summer honing her motorcycle skills in preparation for her attempt to break the World Land Speed Record in Utah at summer's end.

Days spent tearing up huge swaths of dirt and vegetation with her Indian Scout as her friends cheered her on. Evenings spent under the stars, campfires, marshmallows, beer — talking about the past, about where their futures would take them — bonding between close friends who knew that this summer would be their last together.

Girls with the genetic predisposition to become Witches averaged about 1 in 1,500. Although highly respected members of society, Witches were — intentionally or not — held above and apart from the common man. Especially those who chose to enter civic or military service. When a girl's power manifested (generally between 10 and 12 years of age), she would suddenly be treated differently by her peers. A deference to her status mixed with equal parts of awe, fear, and jealousy.

But not the small group of friends who had become so dear to her — who treated her just the same, even after she had become something more. They all promised to meet one more time, after Charlotte came home with her trophy, to celebrate her achievement full out with her.

Charlotte did, indeed, leave the Bonneville Speed Trials in triumph. "Glamorous Shirley" had clocked an unbelievable 187 MPH in the Tier 1 Division. She had decided to stay an extra couple of days to party hard with her fellow speed demons, which is why she was spared the fate that befell her family and friends.

The Neuroi's sudden, overwhelming assault on the western coast of Liberion was as surprising as it was devastating. When it was all over the Neuroi had consumed almost a third of the land mass of the continental United States…including, of course, Charlotte's mother and father, the house she grew up in and every single person important to her.

The following day Charlotte had enlisted in the United States Army Air Force.

Sighing softly, the Liberion ace shook off those old memories and turned her attention to the now…to the kids she was training and the hamburgers that were almost grilled to perfection. Squinting her eyes a bit and shading them with her arm, she gazed upward to watch the four tiny silhouettes as they engaged in practice maneuvers.

Charlotte's training regimen was a lot more laid back than that of Major Sakamoto or Lieutenant Barkhorn. Flight training, by its very nature, was much more open-ended and loosey-goosey than combat or survival training. After having spent about 45 minutes running the girls through their paces, she allowed them a bit of free-flight time.

While they were enjoying themselves in the air she had set up the grill and got out the ingredients she had hauled along, looking forward to the impromptu picnic as much as her charges were.

 _"You've all come such a long way in such a short time,"_ Charlotte mused as she watched the youngsters execute a four-point star, each girl peeling off from the others in unison. _"I can't begin to tell you how proud I am of you."_

Francesca Lucchini, her flight partner, and spiritual little sister didn't need the extra training but she would never pass up the opportunity to log some flight time. Perrine Clostermann was a capable pilot although, when mixed in with the rest of the squad, seemed to lack that sense of 'esprit de corps' that many combat pilots possessed naturally. Lynette Bishop, while somewhat timid and hesitant, was quite earnest about improving all of her skills, flying included.

She noted with satisfaction that the girls had hit the compass point at the same time and began their climb to meet at the apex of the maneuver. One girl, however, was adding a little pizazz to her climb — spinning exuberantly on her primary flight axis, with her arms outstretched. Easy to pick out, with her white seifuku and dark blue sukumizu, was the 501st Joint Fighter Wing's newest member, Yoshika Miyafuji.

Charlotte had taken an immediate liking to Yoshika. The young Fuso girl appeared, at first glance, to be quiet and unassuming…until she opened her mouth. Surprisingly warm, sunny and outgoing, seemingly always upbeat, she was quickly endearing herself to everyone in the squadron. Even the always-taciturn Gertrude Barkhorn. And she had taken to flying like a duck takes to water.

The radio on the beach blanket behind her gave off a shower of static and she heard the high-pitched trilling of Francesca. "Shirrrrleyyyy. I'm _**hungry**_. Are you done yet?"

Charlotte smiled and pulled the microphone from its cradle, keying the talk button. "I was just about to call you in, kiddo. Round 'em up and c'mon down!"

"Roger!" shouted the prepubescent spitfire.

Francesca banked and flew upwards to where the other three girls were. A few seconds later they began their decent. After making a smooth landing and safely stowing their Striker units, the four ran eagerly to where Charlotte had set up their picnic. They found the older girl waiting patiently for them, sitting cross-legged in the sand.

"Roasted corn on the cob!" Yoshika chirped happily. "Just like we have at the festivals back home."

"Yup," Charlotte answered. "I found a local farmer that grows sweet corn. Seed imported from New Britannia. Good stuff."

They all took their places around the blanket and began piling their plates with food.

"Burgers, burgers, burgers!" Francesca shouted excitedly, reaching out to stuff one in her mouth. Charlotte smacked her hand lightly and gave her a stern look, nodding towards Perrine and Lynette, who had bowed their heads in silent prayer. The little Romagnan stopped what she was doing and waited in respectful silence with the others.

Soon the two Europan pilots raised their heads. Yoshika immediately thrust her arms akimbo and sharply clapped her hands twice. "Itadakimasu!" she shouted happily.

Preliminaries out of the way, they started wolfing down the feast laid before them. Flying was a light but steady drain on their magic and, as a result, they were all famished. They spent a good hour or so eating and talking and laughing. Eventually, Charlotte sat back, rubbing her tummy in contentment. Francesca was sprawled out on the sand, snoring lightly, while the other three were sitting quietly enjoying the peace of the moment.

"You all did very well today. You have the basics down and you all seem quite comfortable with intermediate aerial combat maneuvers," Charlotte told the group with a smile. "I chalk it up to your having an awesome flight instructor," she added with a wink.

"Anyway," she continued "I got permission from Commander Wilcke for us to camp out on the beach tonight if you want to."

She stood up and walked over to where her rucksack lay by the grill. "We can start a campfire, and…" reaching into the sack, she pulled out a cellophane bag and held it aloft like a trophy "…roast marshmallows. Another great Liberion tradition."

Perrine stood up, brushed the sand off her legs and donned her flight jacket. "I'll pass. Thanks anyway. I'd rather sleep in my bed than on the ground." She turned and began heading for her Strikers. "You guys have fun, though. Good night."

"Good night Perrine."  
"G'night."  
"Good night Perrine-san."  
"Night kiddo." everyone chorused.

Yoshika looked at the others, a hint of worry on her face. Charlotte smiled inwardly. She knew that Yoshika had a huge heart and she cared deeply for all of her friends' well-being. Even a friend as abrasive and stand-offish as Perrine. "Don't worry Yoshika, she's fine. That's just how she is."

"Yeah," Francesca chortled. "She doesn't play well with others."

Charlotte lightly cuffed the tiny terror on the back of her head "Quiet, you!" Francesca simply looked up at her 'big sis,' giving her a toothy grin. "So, Yoshika," Charlotte continued, "would you mind collecting some fuel for our fire? There's some scrub brush up on that rise that should burn nicely."

"Of course Shirley-san," the Fuso maiden answered, standing up and heading for the rise. Lynette shot a nervous glance at the rest of the group and then stood up as well, calling after Yoshika as the younger girl walked away.

"Yoshika-chan? I…could help you. I-I-If you want me too."

Yoshika looked back and smiled warmly. "That would be swell, Lynne-chan. I could really use your help."

The two stood motionless for a moment, staring at each other as if they had forgotten what they were supposed to be doing. Finally, with a slightly flustered look on her face, Yoshika turned back towards the embankment and started heading up the slight incline, with Lynette following suit, both of them blushing furiously.

Charlotte and Francesca watched with interest as the two strolled away slowly, side by side. Once they were out of earshot, the little Romagnan started squirming around in the sand.

"Arrrgh!" Francisca moaned, pulling on her twin-tails in frustration. "So! Annoying! Those two are so obviously into each other. Why do they keep dancing around it?"

Charlotte smiled openly now. "Well, the way they're mooning over each other, I'm pretty sure they'll end up together eventually." She began to clean up the area so she could pitch the two tents she had hauled out of storage. "Y'know, I think it's so cute how Lynne uses honorifics when she addresses Yoshika, even though we're all speaking Britannish."

"I know, right?" Francesca squealed. "Absolutely adorable."

* * *

 ** _\- July 17, 1943  
_ _ _-_ Cape Canaveral Research Laboratories  
_ _ _-_ Cape Canaveral, Florida, USL_**

Dr. Harold Ostermann adjusted his tie nervously as he mentally reviewed his presentation to General Maloney for the hundredth time. The weight of the responsibility he had been saddled with was enormous. He had been drafted to head the Cape Canaveral Research Complex in southern Liberion, one of the most extensive and well-funded Neuroi research laboratories in the world. So far they had produced mixed results.

The Neuroi were, indeed, alien. Not just from-another-planet alien, but _alien_ alien. All the research so far showed they were a silicon-based life form, something previously thought to be impossible…but there it was.

Almost three years of study, testing and experimentation had yet to yield more than a vague idea of how the Neuroi could even exist, let alone determine their goals and objectives. No declaration of war had ever been issued by the Neuroi. No demands or communication of any kind had ever been offered. They simply showed up one day and engaged in a rampage of destruction.

What _was_ known was _why_ the Neuroi did what they did. The solid matter they consumed, either through direct contact or by the strange miasma that spread from the hives they established, was converted into material to create new Neuroi. This prompted some in the scientific community to conjecture that the Neuroi were nothing more than cosmic locusts, mindlessly moving from planet to planet, devouring everything in their path. Most scientists discounted that theory, however, arguing that their movements and attacks evinced a guiding intelligence of some sort.

The CCRC had confirmed that the Neuroi physically were a red crystalline structure and were, indeed, sentient. This crystalline core surrounded itself with a kind of ablative armor that some rank-and-file wag had christened 'Grey Matter.' The term, as unscientific as it was, stuck…much to Ostermann's chagrin. Grey Matter could be destroyed rather easily but regenerated almost instantaneously. The only way a Neuroi could be put down for good was to shatter the Core.

Conventional weaponry was simply not up to the task. On average, an entire squadron would be decimated to achieve the destruction of a Core…hardly an acceptable trade-off. The Top Brass and scientific advisors had discovered that a Witches shield could stave off the Neuroi coherent light beam weapons. Witches enlisted in military service were deployed in battle to provide shielding for conventional attack groups. However, while this practice provided solid defense — significantly decreasing loss of personal and equipment — it wasn't enough to make an _offensive_ difference.

That all changed when a multi-national think tank, based in Britannia and headed by Fuso's illustrious Dr. Miyafuji Ichiro, created the magic-powered Striker Unit. With Witches now able to get up close and personal with the enemy, Neuroi kill-rates increased a hundred fold. Witch squadrons, in combination with conventional forces, began to achieve some actual push-back against the alien enemy. A welcome turn of events as far as most people were concerned. _Most_ people.

Among a certain segment of the male population, this increase in a Witch's already formidable capabilities was the final straw. Throughout history, they had existed…as long as Witches had existed. Males jealous and resentful of strength that dwarfed their own and powers they could never wield. The powers of a Witch were not only genetic, after all, they were also hormonal. Unless you were sporting an X chromosome and a set of ovaries, you weren't joining the club. And since this war started, women had begun rising into the command and executive ranks, disrupting the boys club the upper echelon had been running up until then.

It was in this environment of prejudice and hostility that someone quite high in the command structure noticed Dr. Ostermann's report on the first Neuroi captive.

The Neuroi core had been, almost impossibly, taken intact in a Special Forces operation designed specifically for that purpose. And with the help of **[classified]** , a Witch whose power was the ability to stop time in a confined locus and effect changes within the locus externally. Very difficult to achieve. Ostermann had been told not to expect many more specimens like it anytime soon.

Like all too many brilliant discoveries throughout history, this one happened quite by accident. An experiment in atmospheric pressure testing went awry. By the time they were able to stabilize the test chamber, the Neuroi core had been subjected to a pressure of approximately 1,500 PSI — over 1,000 times the standard atmospheric pressure at sea level. The equivalent of being dropped to the bottom of the Marianas Trench.

Cracks appeared on the surface, but the thing didn't shatter and dissolve into pixie dust like they always had up to this point. Instead, it segmented along the cracks into seven equal-sized shards, each shard emitting the same pulsing red glow as the whole. Ostermann's team quickly determined that the Core shards were still 'alive' but were no longer sentient.

Of particular interest to the higher-ups who viewed the report was the discovery that a Core shard generated enormous amounts of power. Power that could be tapped like a battery. Not only that, they retained the ability to accrue Grey Matter. With some experimentation, the team had figured out how to force a shard to grow ablative armor over an articulated frame.

Dr. Ostermann had been summoned to Washington and was given a new assignment…to oversee the research and development of the _Machine Assisted General Utility Suit_. The newly-formed MAGUS program had, as its goal, construction of a Core-shard powered, flying battle suit, that would give any normal human the same degree of strength and power that a Witch possessed.

Six months of development since that day, and now the suit was ready for live testing. He stated as much in his daily report to HQ the previous evening. He was unprepared for the phone call he received at 0500 this morning, telling him that General Maloney and his staff would be arriving for a demonstration in four hours.

Ostermann glanced at his wristwatch with a furrowed brow. _"Fifteen minutes until hell."_

As he began to review his presentation for the hundred-and-first time, the double-doors behind him slammed open and in sauntered General Trevor Maloney, with an impressively sized entourage following close behind. Hell had arrived just a bit early. The scientist cringed slightly as Maloney's grating voice pierced the silence of the lab.

"Well, Dr. Ostermann? Here we all are. Impress us!"


	2. Propaganda Campaign

**A/N:** Welcome back, mina. Please enjoy this chapter.

"Strike Witches hajimaru yo!"

 **Propaganda Campaign**

* * *

 ** _\- September 5, 1943  
_ _ _-_ Capel-le-Ferne Airbase — Folkestone, Britannia  
_ _ _-_ Great Hall — 21:40 Hours_**

The leader of the 501st Joint Fighter Wing, Commander Minna-Dietlinde Wilcke, was feeling uneasy in the presence of so many upper-echelon officers and imported security detail. Having a half dozen top brass from the Air Ministry milling around her base set her teeth on edge. Not to mention the cadre of civilian press photographers and reporters they brought with them thrilled her even less.

As a rule, mission briefings for the 12th Air Group (of which, the 501st JFW was a part), took place at RAF Watnall. Earlier that week, Watnall had phoned and informed Minna that this week's mission briefing would take place there, at Capel-le-Ferne.

Minna walked into the main hall, where a catered buffet had been set up for the VIPs and the press corps. She knew most of the command staff by sight, the rest by reputation. Air Marshall Bader and Air Officer Commanding Keith Park — both of whom she saw on a regular basis — were chatting amiably with her friend and second-in-command, Mio Sakamoto, and an older man with iron-grey sideburns, salt-and-pepper mustache and chest overloaded with. That had to be Brigadier D.W. Briggs.

The Strike Witches CO also noted the presence of General Trevor Maloney. That was rather surprising. The last Minna had heard, he had been stationed in Liberion, 'on loan' to the USAAF Central Command Group in Norfolk, Virginia. She had met the man on two separate occasions and twice found him to be a thoroughly unpleasant individual.

So, almost all the players were here and she was _still_ in the damn dark as to what exactly was going to take place here tomorrow. The most she could get out of Commander Park was "Don't worry! You're going to love it, trust me."

Minna had been ordered to provide overnight accommodations for six members of the command staff, three pilots and barracks for twelve members of the civilian press corps. Also, she was told to clear out one hanger bay and assign security. Pressed for more details, she was simply told, "I'm sorry, ma'am. Classified Deep Blue by Operations Control Central. The air marshall will give you the details in person when he arrives."

Frustrated, she had contacted her friend Jane Thach, commander of the 508th JFW, to see if she had heard anything at all about the change in venue. It turned out she hadn't. She had been told, only that same morning, that the 12th Air Group's briefing was to be held at Capel-le-Ferne this week.

Minna knew the other WCs in the 12th would also be out of the loop, so she just left it alone. Showing any anger at the situation would be counter productive. By her nature, though, she couldn't help laying out probable scenarios.

You don't call together a third of the Allied Command Staff and a dozen _reporters_ for a 'mission briefing.' Factoring in the pilots, the hanger request and security detail, one could take a pretty educated guess. A new aircraft design. Or some new kind of weapon. It would have to be something radically new to warrant both this level of secrecy _and_ the level of hype implied by the presence of the press.

Minna was aware that an upgraded Striker model, the Jet Striker, had been in the planning stages for some time — although actual development was hitting some snags. So it couldn't be that.

 _" 'Curiouser and curiouser,' cried Alice…"_ she had thought to herself.

— —

A rushing murmur near the main doors signaled the rest of the circus had finally arrived. Minna gestured to Mio. The major disengaged herself from the conversation she was in and moved to the side of the room to stand at ease beside her commander, hands clasped behind her.

"What's up Minna?" she questioned the younger girl informally, calmly surveying the room.

"Do me a favor and take care of the small fry that just came in, will you?" the Karlslandian answered quietly, gesturing towards the door. "I have to go deal with Bader before he pops his buttons. He wants to introduce me to his boss, apparently."

Mio gave an affirmative nod. "Will do."

Air Marshall Bader saw Minna approach and waved her over towards the group. "Commander Wilcke, come over and meet Brigadier Briggs."

Grimacing inwardly, she put on her most professional smile and strode over to the buffet table, holding out her hand in greeting as she approached.

"Brigadier. A pleasure to meet you, sir."

Brigadier Douglas 'D.W.' Briggs took her hand and gave her a warm and genuine smile. "The pleasure is all mine, Commander Wilcke. The 501st has shown some impressive combat statistics. And many in OCC hold you up as an example of how a CO should lead. You should feel quite proud of your unit. You've done a fine job."

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate it," Minna answered, somewhat bemused by the older man's upbeat demeanor.

"Actually, Commander," he continued "we did meet once before. Although you may not remember. It was a pretty big night for you, I believe."

"Sir?"

"My wife and I were vacationing in Vienna three years ago and we just happened to attend the Vienna Philharmonic during the Student Guest Soloist Series. You performed the most evocative and moving rendition of ' _La Clemenza di Tito'_ I've ever had the pleasure to witness," the Brigadier enthused. "We simply could not believe such a clear and powerful voice came out of a 15-year old girl."

The brigadier looked a bit sheepish as he continued, "My wife insisted that I arrange a backstage meeting with you, and…"

"Oh, my God!" Minna yelped. "Blonde hair? Mauve dress with a white collar? You were vacationing from Cardiff. She kept hugging me and picking me up off the ground, shouting _'Bravissimo!'_ "

"Yes," he chuckled. "That's my Marjorie."

"And you," grinned Minna, narrowing her eyes accusingly, "didn't have a mustache then."

"I believe the mustache gives me an air of authority…" Briggs answered mischievously "…although Marjorie once told me it makes me look like a walrus."

Minna took on a serious look. "And your wife? I mean…Cardiff…Is she…?"

"What? _Oh!_ Oh no, she's quite well, thank you." Briggs said happily. "I sent her to stay with her sister's family in Birmingham long before Cardiff was hit, thank God. She'll be tickled pink when I tell her I got to meet you again."

Minna couldn't help but grin. The man's genial nature was infectious. He leaned in close and whispered conspiratorially, "Errr… do you think, before I leave, I might possibly be able to get your autograph for her?"

"Brigadier Briggs, it would be my pleasure," Minna answered sincerely.

Briggs straightened and continued in a normal voice. "So, after this war is won, will you be returning to your vocation? Will you continue to sing?"

The question startled her for an instant. A scant two weeks earlier she would have given this man a completely different answer. But she had finally laid those ghosts to rest. She already knew she would return to the stage.

"Absolutely, sir. I still have a lot I want to accomplish, after all."

The Brigadier appeared satisfied with her answer. "Well, Commander, I suppose I should let you go." He rolled his eyes to the right. "It appears that someone is desperately trying to get your attention. I'll leave you to it."

Taking a step back, he bowed courteously. "I wish you a pleasant evening."

"And you as well, sir. Thank you."

* * *

Of _course_ she had noticed General Maloney. He had spent the entire evening hovering around the periphery of the party, shuffling his feet impatiently and giving her the occasional glare. She had simply ignored him. Beyond the petty feeling of satisfaction she got from making him wait, the conversation she just had with Briggs had buoyed her spirits considerably. It was good to be reminded that all this was just a detour in her performance schedule.

Unlike Major Sakamoto or Lieutenant Barkhorn, Minna was _not_ career military. She didn't care about promotion. She had no taste for the politics of the front office. Her only concern was taking care of her people until the job was done. Making sure they were kept safe…that they would come home alive. She couldn't do that if she wasn't on top of things.

Suddenly, she was as eager to confront Maloney as she had been dreading it earlier. She _would_ find out what was happening on her own base. Time, as the Liberions liked to say, to grab the bull by the horns. She squared her shoulders and waded in.

"General Maloney. You wanted to speak with me, sir?"

"I do indeed, Commander," the general answered. "I think it's high time you were let in on what we are going to be doing here tomorrow. Please excuse yourself and meet me at the hanger you reserved for us. I will explain everything to you there." With that, the man spun on his heel and made for the exit. Mio approached from behind as soon as she saw Minna was free again.

"So, what's his deal?" she grinned, "Bitching because the floor doesn't have a military polish?"

"No," Minna mused. "I think I finally got invited to see just what the hell is going on."

Mio arched an eyebrow. "Oh? When is this happening?"

Minna glanced around the room and saw that everyone was occupied. "Right now, apparently."

Turning to her subordinate, she gave a wry grin. "And you're coming with me. Think you can tear yourself away from kissing brass?"

"Try and stop me," Mio answered seriously.

The two made their way to the periphery of the gathering and discreetly slipped out of the room.

Approaching the hanger, they saw the guard on duty stand aside, allowing the two Witches to pass. In the center of the open space were three gigantic packing crates. A small cluster of people stood to one side, deep in conversation. In the semi-darkness of the hanger, the crates loomed over Minna and Mio like featureless monoliths. They had to be well over 12 feet in height.

"Commander Wilcke, I don't believe my invitation extended to Major Sakamoto."

Minna didn't bother to look at Maloney as she answered. She continued eyeing the massive shipping crates. "If it concerns me it concerns my second."

The general chose to drop the issue, gesturing to three of the army grunts standing by the far right-hand crate. They cracked the seal and the front panel slammed to the ground. Contained within was what appeared, at first glance, to be an oversized suit of armor. The combination of the moonlight streaming in through the open hanger doors and the dim 60-watt emergency lighting above them gave the armor a sickly yellowish-grey cast.

It was the smoothness of the angles and the octagonal scaling on the armor that tripped a trigger in the girls' minds. They both jumped back a step, taking a defensive stance and invoking their spirit animals without a moment's thought.

An instinctive reaction, even though they knew, intellectually, that what they were looking at couldn't possibly be what they thought it was.

"Stand down, ladies." Maloney barked gruffly. "These are not Neuroi." He gestured for Mio to put away her weapon. Mio looked to Minna for confirmation. The Karlsland girl gave her friend an almost imperceptible nod. Only _then_ did Mio sheathe her katana.

"What you are looking at…" the general continued, ignoring being ignored, "…is the next step in combat weaponry. A powered battle suit. A manned suit of armor that has flight capability, onboard weaponry, and regenerative plating. All adapted from researching and reverse-engineering captured Neuroi technology."

The man's jaw didn't even twitch as he delivered that last half-truth.

"Witches can only do so much, right?" the general concluded, "You guys have needed help in the front lines from the very beginning. Now we can finally give it to you."

"That's all well and good," Minna answered carefully "But what's with this late-night skullduggery and a press corps that doesn't even know what story they'll be covering?" A frown marred her features. "I would _at least_ expect to be informed ahead of time when classified weaponry is being brought onto _my_ base."

"The 'skullduggery,' as you call it, is mostly because up until three days ago, this project technically didn't exist," Maloney answered honestly. "The press coverage is because, frankly, public morale is at it's lowest. We need a shot in the arm to let the people know that we _can_ fight back, that we _can_ win this war. And we are hoping, commander… _I_ am hoping…that you can help us to do just that."

* * *

 _ _ **-**_ **September 6, 1943**  
_ ** _ _-_ Capel-le-Ferne Airbase — Folkestone, Britannia  
_ _ _-_ Main Briefing Room_** ** _ ** _—_** 16:00 Hours_**

"These are the three gentlemen who will be piloting the MAGUS armor," Minna told the assembled unit. She gestured to the first man on the left, a slender, dark-haired man with an easy smile. "Pilot William Fiske."

"Call me Bill. Nice to meet you, ladies."

The man in the center was rather short and blocky by comparison, with red hair and a ruddy complexion. He simply nodded tersely when introduced. "Lieutenant Padric Hughes."

"And finally, " Minna concluded "Pilot Vincent Mallory." The youngest of the three grinned, his tousled brown hair falling into his eyes. "Howdy girls! Pleasure t'meet ch'all."

"I have chosen our three best combat pilots to help put on this aerial display for the press corps. Lieutenants Barkhorn and Yeager, along with 2nd Lt. Hartmann, will engage in four 15-minute mock battles with the MAGUS Squad. The objective is to show off the MAGUS' speed, maneuverability, and firepower."

Minna fixed her gaze on the aforementioned Witches. "I expect you to put them through the wringer. No holding back. I have been assured that they will perform accordingly."

Gertrude Barkhorn narrowed her eyes menacingly and grinned. "Not a problem."

 _~~ somewhat later ~~_

The mock-combat/photo op was over. The three Striker pilots were sitting on their staging areas, still panting with exertion. "Holy…" gasped Charlotte, "What the hell was _that_?"

"They *gasp* were very *gasp* impressive," Gertrude wheezed.

"Impressive?" griped Erica "They toasted our asses. If those matches didn't have a time limit, we would have lost every one."

"Yeager, is what I heard true?" Gertrude asked with an incredulous tone. "They're using pieces of a Neuroi core to power those things? How in God's name is that _not_ a bad idea?"

"The Major looked them over with her 'Dimensional Sight.' There were electron dispersal patterns, but no visual evidence of Neuroi resonance." Charlotte answered seriously. "Sanya couldn't hear a Neuroi presence either. Still…"

"Still?"

"Look, Sanya's and my powers work differently. Well, obviously. But I mean the hearing aspect. When Sanya ' _hears'_ a Neuroi presence, she is ' _hearing'_ a disturbance in the electromagnetic spectrum." Charlotte had unconsciously taken up a lecturing pose as she tried to explain her misgivings. "I _hear_ the Neuroi presence, the 'resonance' as well, but I can actually **hear** it… audibly. It's pitched in the lower hypersonic frequencies and I can easily hear it because of my spirit animal."

Gertrude raised an eyebrow. "And you can hear something from those core pieces?"

"No… yes… no… arrrgh! How do I explain? Oh! I know! You've used shortwave radio before, right? When you run up the dial you hit static, then a station, then more static, then a station?"

The Karlsland ace nodded in the affirmative.

"Well," Charlotte continued, "you know how _sometimes_ you run into absolute silence? You can feel an absence of sound…like a hole or tunnel, waiting to be filled with noise? Like dead air?" Another nod from Gertrude. "That's called an 'open carrier.' The frequency is active but not in use. When I focused on those MAGUS suits that's the impression I got. Dead air."

"Did you tell anyone?"

"Of course. I told Major Sakamoto. She said she'd inform Commander Wilcke of my observation." Charlotte chuckled. "And she said if it means anything, we'll probably find out sooner than we want, and at the worst possible moment."

"Her mouth to God's ear," Gertrude quipped.


	3. On a Pedestal

****A/N:**** Welcome back. Please enjoy this chapter. ** **  
****

"Strike Witches hajimeru yo!"

 **On a Pedestal**

* * *

 ** _\- September 10, 1943  
_ _ _-_ Capel-le-Ferne Airbase  
_ ___-__ Enlisted Personnel Quarters — 01:50 Hours_**

"…ohhh… ohhhhhh…godohgodohgodohgod… yoshika… i… … … mmmm… mmnnn… … h-huh? … … …"

Lynette Bishop blinked slowly as she sleepily reached out to embrace the form next to her and smiled. Her smile slowly faded as she came fully into wakefulness and realized that what she was holding in her arms wasn't the girl she loved, but one of her pillows. She stared at it uncomprehendingly. Her face was emotionless but tears began to leak from her eyes nonetheless. _"…only a dream,"_ she whispered to herself. " _Again."_

Lynette's first…intense…dream about Yoshika Miyafuji happened about a month after the little Fuso maiden had become a full-fledged member of the Strike Witches.

Earlier that day the Neuroi had launched a major offensive across the Dover Straits from Gallia, attempting to establish a Britannian beachhead on the easternmost point below the Thames Estuary. The 416th Air Squadron were engaged elsewhere, so it was pretty much up to the 501st to carry the entire battle.

The action was heavy and the battle dragged on much longer than the typical firefight. Lynne pushed through her fatigue for a while, but eventually, it was just too much for her to handle. Her reactions were sluggish and it was becoming so hard to keep up with the action around her.

The young Britannian had just dispatched an enemy craft and swung around to find herself directly in the path of another one. In panic, she whipped the muzzle of her gun around and felt her stomach hollow out as heard the metallic 'klatch' that indicated the rifle was jammed. Exhaustion swept over her in a sudden rush.

Her engines faltered momentarily. She tried to put up a shield, but it was impossible. She just didn't have any more to give. The engines cut out again for an instant. The Neuroi craft began to glow as it built up power to unleash its weapon. Lynette dully realized that she was out of options. She closed her eyes, not in fear but in resignation. " _I'm going to die now, aren't I?"_

The scream of annihilated air molecules drowned out everything else as the Neuroi weapon discharged. At that exact instant, she felt a small but strong arm wrap around her waist. A calm and confident voice filled her ears. An emotional lightning bolt tore through her as she realized it was the one voice she wanted to hear the most in all the world.

"I've got you Lynne-chan." The bashful Britannian opened her eyes cautiously, only to see the Neuroi particle beam splashing harmlessly off Yoshika's shield like water. She could only stare at Yoshika as the tiny chestnut-haired girl gave her a confident grin. "Don't worry Lynne-chan. We're almost done here. Just hang on a bit longer, okay?"

Yoshika's eyes narrowed with determination and she began to press them both forward, steadily advancing on the Neuroi craft. The screech of the Neuroi weapon was almost deafening as they moved closer and closer. The constant bombardment didn't seem to put much strain on Yoshika at all. They were almost physically touching the alien craft when it suddenly flared with light and exploded before their eyes.

" **Yosh!** " the tiny brunette exclaimed, pumping her fist in the air. Then, seeing Lynne's expression, she grinned sheepishly. "I was _pretty_ sure that would work."

Yoshika's cute, bashful grin was the last thing Lynette saw before she lost consciousness. When her eyes opened once more she found herself being cradled firmly in those same small, strong arms.

"Welcome back, sleepyhead," Yoshika murmured with a soft smile. "We're almost home."

With her arms wrapped around Yoshika's neck, Lynette had to look upward to see the younger girl's face. Craning her neck to look over her right shoulder she saw the towers of Capel-le-Ferne in the distance. The Britannian girl felt just like a princess being carried home by her brave knight. A feeling she had long since told herself she would never experience. There in Yoshika's arms, she felt safe and at peace, felt a contentment that she had never believed possible.

That night the little Fuso girl filled Lynette's dreams. She stood before Yoshika in her nightgown, cheeks flushing at the hungry look in Yoshika's eyes. The younger girl nodded her head and Lynne knew instinctively that Yoshika wanted to remove her nightgown. She allowed it without hesitation and trembled in desire at the approving stare the younger girl gave her.

Dream Yoshika moved confidently towards her, easily lifting her off of her feet and laying her down gently on the bed. They kissed hungrily. Then Yoshika began to softly kiss her neck, her shoulders… stopping at her breasts to nuzzle them. The pleasurable torture continued as the Fuso girl began to slowly make her way down between Lynette's thighs… That dream had ended abruptly with Lynette waking up confused, embarrassed and heavily aroused. It would not be the last time naughty thoughts about the tiny Asian beauty would disturb her sleep.

Before she met Yoshika, Lynne wasn't really close to anyone. Social interaction made her very uncomfortable. She always saw herself as clumsy and inadequate. She always felt out of place. Yoshika never made her feel that way, though. Cheerful and positive and guileless, Yoshika always encouraged her and was always patient with her. Their friendship blossomed quickly and soon the two were inseparable.

Lynne had taken notice of Yoshika immediately. From the very first day they met, Lynette had thought that the little Fuso maiden was absolutely the cutest little thing she had ever laid eyes on. As they became close — as Lynette learned what a generous and loving soul the spunky little brunette possessed — the powerful physical attraction quickly turned into romantic love.

Yes, Yoshika was headstrong. And stubborn. And a bit of an airhead. But to Lynette, those traits only served to make Yoshika even more adorable. And she would never stop fighting for what she believed was right…which caused Lynette to love her all the more.

Two weeks ago she had decided she wasn't going to just sit back and do nothing. She wanted Yoshika to know her feelings and decided to try dropping subtle hints wherever she could. During one of their strolls, Yoshika was venting her frustration about an incident that occurred earlier in the day. She had made some Fuso sweets for the flight crew that maintained her Striker unit as a 'thank you' for all their hard work. The crew chief had gently but firmly rebuffed her, informing the Fuso pilot of Commander Wilcke's policy forbidding the flight crew fraternizing with the Witches.

"That doesn't seem very fair to me." Yoshika ranted. "Those guys work real hard to make sure my stuff is ready for me to go into battle with confidence. And I can't even give them sweets as a thank you? It just doesn't seem right."

" _Why is it such a big deal to her?"_ Lynette wondered. She, herself, didn't mind the policy in the least. It kept her from being the object of unwanted male attention. On base at least. She was unsure of why it bothered Yoshika, who seemed quite agitated over the situation. " _Maybe…d-does she like men that way?"_

From all their talks, Lynne had at least been confident that Yoshika was into girls, too. But maybe she had misread that — projecting her own feelings on their relationship? She suddenly felt her world tilt sideways.

Unsure of how to respond, Lynne ended up fully confiding to Yoshika about her lack of interest in men or interaction with any except for her brothers. How she felt uncomfortable around men and wasn't attracted to them at all. It just flowed out and she thought she may have said too much. Glancing at Yoshika, she saw the Fuso girl open her mouth to reply. But before any words could come out…

…a young crewman from the _IFS Akagi_ suddenly appeared in front of them. He bowed to Yoshika, thanking her for saving their ship from the Neuroi attack that occurred on their arrival in Britannia. Yoshika smiled from the compliment. Then the crewman held an envelope out to her. "Please accept this."

In Lynne's mind, Yoshika seemed uncharacteristically flustered by the attention. And what was with that goofy smile? Lynne suddenly felt sick to her stomach. " _She_ _ **does**_ _like guys after all. She seems really happy about all this."_ Her emotions were a jumble. " _I want her to be happy. I love her. If I can't make her happy, then maybe…"_

Before she could second-guess herself, Lynne leaned over to Yoshika and whispered. "Isn't that a love letter?"

Yoshika gave her a surprised look. "Love letter?"

"Yes." Lynne beamed, hiding her true feelings under a mask of encouragement. "You should accept it." Taking the box Yoshika was carrying from her hands Lynne gave her friend an encouraging smile. Her mind, however, screamed the exact opposite. _"Please don't take it, Yoshika."_ she thought in despair.

Yoshika reached out for the letter but the wind carried it out of the boy's hands and directly into Commander Wilcke's. Minna scolded the terrified young sailor for violating her "no-fraternization" orders and gave him his letter back, unopened.

Ever since that day Yoshika had seemed a bit off. Sad. She tried to cover it up, but Lynette could see right through her. " _She probably feels rejected, kind of. It's obviously bothering her."_ She wished her friend could be happy again. But more than that, she wished _she_ could be the one that could make her happy.

The more she thought about it over the succeeding days, the more she realized that she could never be in a relationship with Yoshika. Yoshika was strong and courageous. She possessed an indomitable spirit. Lynette knew that she could never measure up to the young Fuso maiden.

Lynne continued to lie motionless in her bed, heartbreak etched upon her features. " _I'm such a burden to her. I'm always holding her back. She can't do her best because she always has to look out for me."_ Her self-loathing deepened. " _She's so amazing and I'm just so… so…_ _ **useless**_ _."_

Suddenly she could no longer contain the anguish she felt. She buried her head in her pillow and began to cry even harder.

" _Yoshika could never truly love me."_ she thought sadly. " _I'm simply not good enough for her."_

* * *

 ** _ _ _-__ September 10, 1943  
_ _ _ _-__ Capel-le-Ferne Airbase  
_ _ _ _-__ Enlisted Personnel Quarters — 02:30 Hours_**

"… _oh… ohhh… ohhhhhh kami-samaaaaaa… lynn-chan… lynnnnnnn… channNNNN…"_

Yoshika bolted awake, her body bathed in sweat, the sheets awkwardly twisted around her body. She blinked groggily a couple of times, still half asleep. She made a little 'meep' sound as the graphic images from her dream flooded her memories. And another when she realized what her right hand was doing. Her head cleared as she came fully awake and a bittersweet sadness washed over her as she realized that it was only a dream. Again.

Yoshika's first erotic dream about Lynette Bishop came soon after she joined the 501st. She had flown a mission that day…her first _official_ action since the incident aboard the _IFS_ _Akagi_ when she had arrived in Britannia. The tiny Fuso maiden had (quite literally) supported Lynne in combat and gave the Britannian pilot the confidence and opportunity to take down an enemy aircraft after it had eluded both Lieutenant Juutilainen and Commander Wilcke.

Lynette had been overjoyed to be able to actually contribute in a big way towards her squadron, and she had realized she could not have done it without the spunky little Fuso girl. Hugging Yoshika tightly, she thanked her over and over for standing by her and believing in her. Yoshika's head was pressed rather firmly into Lynne's soft and ample bosom. At first, she thought she couldn't breathe, then she realized she could and was overwhelmed with the light fragrance of heather from Lynette's soft skin.

That night the bashful Britannian girl filled Yoshika's dreams. Together with Lynette, naked in a warm blue sky…not flying but floating…touching, caressing, kissing, drifting like autumn leaves to softly land in a sunlit patch of mossy grass. Making love slowly…passionately…deeply…

The dream had ended with Yoshika hopelessly tangled up in her sheets and tumbling out of bed with a loud crash, causing the object of her desire come rushing to her aid. It would not be the last time the normally unflappable Yoshika Miyafuji became completely flustered in the presence of this girl.

Lynne was very unsure of herself when Yoshika first met her. Afraid to make friends, she kept herself closed off. However, Yoshika saw something in Lynne that Lynne could not see in herself and, for some reason, Yoshika was able to reach her, where others could not. Their friendship blossomed quickly and soon the two were inseparable.

From the very first day they met Yoshika had thought that Lynette was, in fact, the loveliest girl she had ever seen. As they became closer, as Yoshika learned what a sweet and gentle soul the shy beauty possessed, the powerful physical attraction quickly turned into romantic love.

Yes, Lynette was shy. And clumsy. And a bit of an airhead. But to Yoshika, those traits only served to make Lynette even more adorable. And she was always trying her best…which caused Yoshika to love her all the more.

She let out a disturbed sigh.

Having erotic dreams didn't disturb her. She'd been having them since she hit puberty. Masturbation, of course, didn't disturb her. She understood it was a simple biological/psychological need…no real angst involved. She _was_ from a family of physicians, after all.

The fact that she was having erotic dreams about another girl didn't disturb her. She had known of her preference since puberty, as well. Many of the sleepovers with her dear childhood friend Michiko, over the past couple of years, had included _'experimenting,'_ as Michiko liked to call it.

No, what disturbed her was the fact that her love now seemed unattainable. Two weeks earlier she had been confident. She was certain Lynette shared her feelings and she was ready to confess her love. Even better, on one of their daily strolls Lynne had confided to her the fact that she didn't really like men, except for her brothers. She felt uncomfortable around them and wasn't attracted to them at all. This was it. The perfect opportunity for Yoshika to tell Lynne how she felt. But before she could utter a word…

…a young crewman from the _Akagi_ suddenly appeared in front of them. He bowed to Yoshika, thanking her for saving their ship from the Neuroi attack that occurred on their way to Britannia. Yoshika smiled in embarrassment from the compliment. Then the crewman held an envelope out to her. "Please accept this," he said in a frantic voice. Yoshika looked at him with confusion.

Lynne leaned over to Yoshika and whispered. "Isn't that a love letter?"

Yoshika looked at Lynn and was surprised and a little disappointed to see that she was smiling. "Love letter?"

"Yes," Lynne beamed. "You should accept it," she insisted, taking the box Yoshika was carrying from her hands. Yoshika was stunned. " _She…she's encouraging this? But why? I thought…maybe…I thought she…" G_ lancing to her right, she saw Lynne looking at her expectantly.

" _Why?"_ thought Yoshika in despair. " _It's like she_ _ **wants**_ _me to go out with him."_

Trying to keep her emotions in check, Yoshika had hesitantly reached out for the envelope. The wind carried the letter from the boy's hands and directly into Commander Wilcke's. Minna scolded the young man for violating her 'no-fraternization' orders and gave him his letter back, unopened.

Yoshika never did get to read what was in the letter. Not that the letter mattered to her at all. All that she could think about was Lynette's reactions. " _She doesn't want me. She doesn't see me that way."_ Her heart ached with the loss of something she had never had in the first place. " _That's right. We're just good friends aren't we?"_

The confidence she once carried had been shattered like glass.

" _Obaachan, your medical text books told me everything about sex, but they didn't say anything about_ _ **love**_ _."_ She thought sadly. _"Like how much it hurts. Why does it have to…_ _ **hurt**_ _so much?"_

The more she thought about it over the succeeding days, the more she realized that even if her feelings were returned they could never be together. Lynne's family probably wouldn't accept their relationship. Not that there was a problem with same-sex couples in this society, but there was a question of status… and it was very real. And in social status, Lynne was far above her, after all.

Lynette's family had an extensive military background and had served king and country for countless generations. The family's service to the crown had been recognized long ago. Her paternal great-grandfather became the first Duke of Glys, a title now held by her father. She had had the finest schooling. She was knowledgeable about things like world affairs and classic literature. Even Perrine treated her with deference, but only because she considered Lynne her social equal.

A rare frown crossed Yoshika's delicate features as she hugged her pillow. " _I hate to admit it but Perrine-san is right. I'm just a stupid country bumpkin. Lynne-chan is a fine lady from a titled family…"_ The gloom in her mind thickened. " _…I'm just a…a…a raccoon dog."_

Something inside of Yoshika finally gave way. She began to sob quietly into her pillow, hot tears spilling down her cheeks. " _Lynne-chan could never truly love me,"_ she thought sadly. " _I'm simply not good enough for her."_

* * *

 ** _ _-_ September 11, 1943  
_ _ _-_ Capel-le-Ferne Airbase  
_ _ _-_ Mess Hall/Quad — 13:10 Hours_**

Vincent Mallory caught up to Francesca as she was leaving the mess hall. "S'cuse me Ensign Lucchini, y'all got a second? I wanted ta ask ya somthin'."

The Romagnan pixie was walking down the dirt path with her hands clasped behind her head. Spinning around to face the young pilot, she continued walking in the same direction, only backward. "Sure, Mallory, what's up?"

"Well, I was wonderin'…you're partnered with Lieutenant Yeager, right?"

"Yup. I set 'em up, she knocks 'em down," she grinned. "Why do you ask?"

Mallory laughed nervously and unconsciously rubbed the back of his head. "Well, I was wonderin' if maybe you couldn't, kinda' introduce me to her. I…ummm…I just wanted to ask her a couple a'things," he answered her bashfully. "I can't jus' walk up ta her and say _'Hey!',_ y'know? _"_ He gave an awkward chuckle. "She outranks me, for one thing."

She raised an eyebrow at the request, wondering what on earth this kid wanted with Shirley. Then she took a closer look at what the pilot was holding in his left hand and smiled. "Sure. No problem. She's in her quarters. I was just heading over to ask her something anyway. Come on."

Mallory began following the pint-sized Ensign as she walked deeper into the base, past the Enlisted Barracks, past the Officers Quarters, towards a cluster of Quonset huts on the eastern side of the base. Mallory recognized the area. Every base had one…the motor pool. One of the buildings was set slightly apart from the others. It was to that building Francesca led the callow southerner.

They walked in through a side door and Mallory found himself standing in what appeared to be someone's living quarters, taking up about half of the building's square footage. The living area contained a couple of couches and an assortment of chairs, a card table in the corner and something that looked like a roughly-built wet bar running along the left wall. On the right was a prefab wall with a door cut into it. Through the opening, Mallory could see a dresser, a desk, the end of a bed and a footlocker.

"Come on in," Lucchini urged, motioning Mallory to follow her down the central hallway. There, on the back wall, was an open set of double doors. A bright light was streaming from within and the sound of a radio blaring the throaty, polyrhythmic chops of a jazz trio.

Stepping through the doorway, Mallory simply gawped at the contents of the huge open space that comprised the remainder of the building. A workbench filled with random parts and unrecognizable gadgets took up the entire far wall and doglegged left to run partway along the back wall. Next to that was a large work area containing a standing vice, drill press, metal lathe and power sander. A wall-mounted rack filled with tools dominated the work area, the tools arranged in painstaking order, glittering under the ceiling-mounted flood lamps. In the center of the open area, the left leg unit of a Striker was suspended in midair by a hydraulic lift. The engine hatch was open and the engine itself missing.

At the main worktable, a busty redhead sat hunched over the missing Striker engine, dismantling it adroitly. Absorbed in her tinkering, Charlotte didn't take notice of the two youngsters until Francesca cleared her throat and announced, "Shirley, you have a visitor."

Charlotte glanced up from her work to see Francesca and one of the MAGUS pilots, the latter still taking in his surroundings with an awestruck look. "Hello, Mr. Mallory. What can I do for you?"

It took Mallory a second to process Charlotte's words. Her friendly greeting and easy smile helped him to calm down a bit. "Well, ma'am, a-ah'm a huge fan a' yers. An' ah was wonderin' if'n you'd sign this fer me."

The object he had kept at his side he now brought out into the open and held toward Charlotte like a holy offering. There in his hands was a mint condition copy of the program from the 1940 Bonneville Speed Trials. She took the magazine from his outstretched hands and opened to the bookmarked page.

There it was. The full-page color picture of herself, standing next to her motorcycle and giving the camera a thumbs-up and her most winning smile. Wearing low-cut shorts and a men's white dress shirt, buttons open at the top to expose her even-then ample cleavage. She also wore the leather bomber jacket and soft-leather aviators cap that had once belonged to her grandfather. The goggles were perched rakishly on her forehead and her red hair spilled out from underneath the cap and down her shoulders.

"Where did you get this?" Charlotte asked bemusedly.

"Ma pa's a racer too. We drove fer five days ta get ta Utah so he could compete in th' four-wheel division. He came in 12th…" he grinned sheepishly, "… which ain't bad when ya consider it was a field a' fifty," he quickly amended.

"So we was right there watchin' in th' forward gallery when ya broke th' record. I mean, damn…oh, beg pardon Lieutenant, but…I mean… _ **damn**_ …187 miles an hour!" He shook his head in wonder.

"Ah clocked 142 once. Kept 'er pegged fer 'bout 45 seconds," he enthused. "Ah could'a kept goin', but th' damn piston shot clean through th' engine block. Pert' near tore ma knee off." Charlotte laughed as Mallory related his story. "But what a feeling though…" he continued, "…ah can't wait ta try it agin." He gazed at Charlotte with unconcealed admiration. "An' now, yer th' first person ta break th' sound barrier. Must'a felt _incredible_."

"It _was_ incredible," Charlotte answered sincerely. "It was like entering another world. I can't even begin to describe it." Grabbing an oil marker off her workbench she signed her name over her picture. "What's your first name kid?"

"Vincent," he told her. Then with a panicky wave of his hands, added "Wait, make it out ta 'Vince', okay?"

"Oh?" Charlotte smirked, "Not 'Vinnie'?"

" _God_ , no." Mallory shuddered.

"You got it. Vinnn-ccc-e."

She scribbled a short message, thanking him for his support, and wishing him well in his future — a fellow human being with a need for speed. As she handed the magazine back to him, he saw something over her shoulder that he had somehow missed before. Two motorcycles. One, a clunky-looking Karlsland make with an attached sidecar, sat at the rear of the space near the bay doors. The other…the other looked as if it had just materialized out of the magazine he now held again.

"Is that…?" Mallory began. Charlotte followed his gaze to where her Indian Scout was parked.

"Yup," the Liberion ace acknowledged. "I had her shipped to me after I was sure I was going to be stationed here permanently. You want to come take a look at her?"

"Really? That'd be swell, ma'am." Vince enthused. "Thank ya kindly."

"Ooookay," Francesca announced loudly. "I can tell things are about to get all technical in here, so I'm out."

As she turned to leave, Charlotte called out to her. "Hey, you said you wanted to ask me about something? What was it?"

"Oh! Yeah. That. Totally forgot," she shrugged. "I was just wondering if you knew what tomorrow morning's meeting is all about. How come it's just me and you and Yoshika and Lynne? Are we in trouble?"

"Not that I am aware of." Charlotte answered with a smile.

"Am _I_ in trouble?"

"Not that I am aware of."

"Okay. Good," Francesca sighed in relief. "Now I have another, completely different question."

"Yes?"

"What _language_ is that guy speaking?" she asked seriously. "I can barely understand him."

Charlotte laughed as she turned to go back into her workshop. "I'll see you at dinner."


	4. Command Performance

****A/N:**** Welcome back. Please enjoy this chapter. ** **  
****

"Strike Witches hajimeru yo!"

 **Command Performance**

* * *

 ** _\- September 12, 1943  
_ _ _-_ Capel-le-Ferne Airbase  
_ _ _-_ Commander Wilcke's Office — 09:30 Hours_**

Mio ushered the four girls into Minna's office. They were puzzled to see that the three MAGUS pilots were in attendance as well, each engrossed in a thick packet of mission briefings. On the back wall was a roll-down map of Europa. On the four empty chairs were briefing packets similar to the ones the men were currently reviewing.

Minna looked at them over her coffee mug. "Ah, right on time. Have a seat, girls."

Charlotte nodded her head towards the break table in the back of the room. "Commander, mind if I…?"

Minna smiled at her. "Of course, Shirley."

Charlotte walked to the table and poured herself a large mug of black coffee. She didn't bother to offer to get the others any. She knew that Lynette didn't like coffee and that Yoshika preferred tea. And the _last_ thing Francesca needed was caffeine. Downing half the mug in a couple of gulps, she then topped it off and took her seat.

"I'll get straight to the point," Minna began. "You four are going to escort these gentlemen to their permanent posting in Karlsland. Along the way, you will be making four scheduled stops. At these locations, you will be attending press conferences and photo ops scheduled by OCC. You will also be performing mock combats, similar to what took place here five days ago, for the press corps."

Minna paused for a second, gauging the girls' reaction. As expected, Charlotte immediately raised her hand for attention. "Yes, Shirley?"

"Why the press conferences?" Charlotte questioned. "And why us, specifically?"

"As you all know very well, we are not making much headway in winning this war. Civilian morale is at an all-time low. These press conferences are designed to give that morale a little boost. They will not only serve to showcase our new weapons capabilities as represented by the MAGUS Units, but also as a reminder of the power and skills of Witches now fighting on the front lines."

Taking a sip from her coffee mug, the Strike Witches commander continued.

"And you four, specifically, were chosen for a number of reasons. Shirley, you have name recognition. Between being the first person to break the sound barrier, on top of the accomplishments you achieved before you joined the service, everyone in the world who reads a newspaper knows who you are."

Mio broke into the conversation, addressing the younger three girls. "And while we have complete confidence in the capabilities of everyone in this unit, you three were chosen specifically because you are all as cute as buttons…and, believe me, that _never_ hurts during a photo op," she concluded, with her booming drill-sergeant laugh.

"It's as the major says," Minna confirmed with a wry grin. "We have multiple goals to achieve, but primary among them is to rally the general public. I can't help but to agree with OCC's choices and reasoning."

She rifled through the stack of papers in front of her, pulling out a specific one.

"The participants in the mock combats with the MAGUS units will be you, Shirley, along with Miyafuji and Lucchini. Lynette, my not choosing you for this part of the assignment is not meant as a slight. Your performance, especially of late, has been exemplary. It's just that your skills are primarily sharp-shooting and long-distance cover fire, and are, therefore, not really suited for this type of demonstration."

"I understand ma'am," Lynette acknowledged politely. "Thank you for saying so."

While the girls were digesting this information, Minna turned her attention to the male pilots.

"Until you arrive at your new posting, this is your squadron. You will be under the command of Lieutenant Yeager who, for the duration of this assignment, is being advanced in rank to captain." Rising from her chair, she walked around from behind her desk to stand in front of Charlotte. The Liberion pilot came to attention and accepted the three gold pips for her collar.

"Congratulations, Captain Yeager," Minna said, throwing a salute, which Charlotte returned, with a poorly concealed grin. "Thank you, Commander. I'll do you proud."

"I know you will," Minna responded confidently.

She then moved towards the map on the back wall. "This assignment will take six weeks, during which you will have a lot of downtime in between conferences. So you can all consider this to be a working vacation." Turning to address Francesca, Yoshika, and Lynette, she continued. "Do some sightseeing. Learn about the world a bit, beyond your own borders."

She gave them a wink and a motherly smile, then turned to face the entire room once more and gestured at the map.

"Now, as to the specifics of this mission, and your itinerary…"

* * *

Finally, the two-and-a-half-hour briefing was finished. The seven members of the newly formed 'Propaganda Squad,' as Charlotte had informally named them, walked into the mess hall, animatedly discussing the upcoming mission.

Spying Gertrude sitting at her customary table, Charlotte couldn't help but to go over and tease her friendly rival. Walking past the table, she thumbed the edge of her collar to show off her newly acquired captain's pips. "I outrank you," she gloated with a sly grin, as she walked past her table to get into the serving queue.

Gertrude gave a puzzled look, and then grumped when she saw rank insignia Charlotte now wore. 'Trude's flight partner, Erica Hartmann, laughed at her fellow Karlslander's reaction. Francesca, trailing Charlotte, turned and gave Gertrude an obnoxious grin. "She outranks you."

Gertrude rolled her eyes heavenward, causing Erica to laugh even harder.

* * *

Lynette was heading back to her quarters to grab her purse and a light jacket. She and Yoshika had made plans to meet in the main hall, and from there head into town to do some shopping for their trip. Lost in thought, she bumped smack into Pilot Fiske, who looked delighted upon seeing whom he had run into.

"Sergeant Bishop! Just the person I was looking for."

"Y-y-you were l-looking for… _me_?" Lynette questioned nervously.

"Indeed I was," Fiske responded, flashing his most charming smile. "I wanted to look around the town a bit before we leave tomorrow. I was hoping you would accompany me. You know? Show me the sights? Maybe get some dinner and a couple of drinks? What do you say?"

"Ummm…I-I'm underage to drink alcohol, Mister Fiske," Lynnette mumbled, trying to discourage his continuing the conversation.

Fiske misinterpreted her nervousness at the situation as her simply being shy and coquettish. Playing the game. Which he was always up for.

"Ahhh, don't worry about that," he continued, waving his hand dismissively. "If you're old enough to die for your country, you should be old enough to have a couple of drinks if you want to."

As he moved into her personal space, Lynne became almost paralyzed with fear. She tried to respond, but her mouth wouldn't work. Corporal Fiske was so intent on making a conquest, he failed to read the atmosphere. "It'll be fine," he insisted. "Come on."

Taking Lynette by the hand, he turned to lead her to the main hall. Before he could take a single step, he felt a sudden blow to his arm and a sharp pain in the hand that had been holding the Britannian girl's a mere second ago. Startled, he spun around only to find himself with a face full of extremely angry brunette.

" **What are you doing to Lynne-chan?"**

" _Huh…?"_ he thought brilliantly.

It took the corporal a beat to process what was happening. He saw the little Fuso pilot standing between himself and girl he had just tried to make some time with, her arms outstretched to block any attempt he might make to grab her friend again. For her own part, said friend was now hiding behind the newcomer, trembling with fright. Her left hand gripped the younger girl's sleeve tightly and she had buried her head between the girl's shoulder blades.

Miyafuji Yoshika very rarely got angry, but when she _did,_ it was truly a sight to behold.

"What. Are you doing. To Lynne-chan?" she repeated.

The diminutive girl didn't raise her voice this time. She didn't need to. Her tone was like ice and her gaze a smoldering fire. Fiske could tell by the look in her eyes…if she didn't receive a satisfactory answer, she was going to beat the living tar out of him.

The Liberion pilot's mind raced. He was finally putting two and two together and realized he had made a terrible mistake. She wasn't just being shy. She had been genuinely afraid of him. In his single-minded attempt to make a conquest, he had completely ignored the atmosphere and the now-obvious body language. Suddenly, he felt like a first-class shitheel.

In this case, he decided, honesty was the best policy. He simply hoped it didn't end in a world of hurt.

He lowered his head to the two. "Sergeant Miyafuji, please let me humbly and sincerely apologize. Both to Sergeant Bishop and yourself. I was trying to ask her out on a date and I thought she was just a little nervous. I didn't realize…" he paused. "Sergeant Bishop…I came on too strong and I didn't pay attention to your feelings. It was wrong of me."

" _Well, that was a bit lame wasn't it?"_ Fisk thought, the words sounding inadequate even to himself.

"Sergeant Bishop, please accept my humblest apologies."

Lynette was still unable to meet his eyes, but she nodded her head slightly.

Yoshika could see genuine regret in the man's eyes. Her _rage_ subsided, but her _anger_ did not. "Just…just go, okay? I believe you. And we have to work together. If you are truly sorry, we'll just put it behind us."

Fiske couldn't believe his good fortune. He had suddenly been afraid that he would be put on report or that there would be an inquiry. He had definitely dodged a bullet here. He turned away and began to walk back to the main hall, but stopped when Yoshika called out to him.

The Fuso pilot approached, making sure she was far enough away that her bashful friend couldn't overhear. Looking upward, she stared directly into the tall man's eyes, her voice cold and emotionless and eerily calm. "Fiske-san, if you ever approach her in that manner again…if you ever frighten her like that again…if you even _look_ at her the wrong way…" her eyes narrowed menacingly, "I _won't_ hold back."

Yoshika then turned her back to him and returned to the side of her still distraught companion, placing a comforting arm around her shoulder and began gently led her back towards their quarters.

Fiske swallowed hard. " _Whoa, that…_ _ **that**_ _was_ _ **scary**_ _!"_

* * *

After his recent brush with death, Pilot William Fiske had lost his taste for sightseeing and womanizing. Instead, he wandered the base aimlessly, thinking about how badly he had mishandled the whole situation earlier. Lost in thought, he didn't notice Vince Mallory until the younger man tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey Bill, ah been lookin' all over fer ya. Th' louie wants ta talk ta ya." He gave his older friend a slightly worried look. "Ummm…he looks kinda pissed off. Wha'd ya do this time?"

"Wonderful," Fiske sighed. "So much for putting it behind us."

Mallory gave him a puzzled look. "Huh?"

"Ah, nothing."

He straightened up and squared his shoulders, ready to take whatever punishment was coming.

"I may be in the soup again, Vince. But it's my own damn fault," he explained, clapping his buddy on the arm. "If I end up in the brig, come visit me ok?"

* * *

Bill Fiske stood outside the door of Lieutenant Hughes' temporary office for a good five minutes, steeling himself for the inevitable. Finally he knocked. "Come," came a voice from within.

He opened the door to find Lieutenant Hughes sitting behind his desk, immersed in paperwork. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

Hughes looked up from his work and gestured to the chair in front of his desk.

"Take a seat William," the lieutenant said in a neutral voice.

"Sir, if this is about earlier today…"

"Shut yer gob an' siddown, William."

"Yes, sir."

Lieutenant Hughes folded his hands on the desk and gave the young corporal a serious glare. "D'ya nae realize how lucky ya are lad? If those wee lasses' had reported yer actions t' their CO, ya'd be sittin' in the stockade right now. At the _vurry_ least. Commander Wilcke is extremely protective a'her officers."

Fiske looked up in surprise. "They didn't report me?"

"Nae, they dinn'a." Hughes answered. "Miss Miyafuji is as good as her word. After yer pathetic little performance, they both left the base on a day pass."

"But, then, how did you know about…?"

"I was at th' end of th' adjacent hallway. I witnessed th' entire embarrassin' episode," the lieutenant explained. He let out a heavy sigh. "God damn it, William. This inn't the first time yer skirt-chasin' has gotten ya in dutch. Ya do realize, don't ya, that li'l girl could'a mopped th' floor with ya if she chose to? Quite frankly, I was half hopin' she would. Ya certainly need _somethin'_ ta knock some sense inta that thick skull a yers."

Fiske was already ashamed of himself. This dressing down by his commanding officer and good friend only made him feel ten times worse.

"Look," Hughes continued, "ya're a decent fella William. An' I'm happy to have ya fightin' at m' side. But ya have _got_ to stop thinkin' wi' yer dick. It's unbecomin' and it's unprofessional." He paused for emphasis. "D' I make m'self clear?"

"Perfectly, sir."

"This mission's supposed ta be a cake walk. But if somethin' unexpected happens…if we end up in a firefight…Christ above lad, how th' hell are those girls supposed ta trust ya ta watch their backs if they're too worried about ya watchin' their asses?"

"Yes sir. I know sir. I'll find a way to make it up to them. I promise," Fiske passionately assured his superior.

"Hmmp," Hughes grunted. "Dinna make promises ya canna keep laddie."

"Sir, I felt bad about this as soon as it happened. I knew I screwed up royally. I really do want to make it up to them," the corporal said sincerely.

"See that ya do," Hughes said seriously. "Otherwise, I'll hold ya down meself and let th' wee lass make good on 'er threat."

Fiske's face flared red in embarrassment. "You heard that too, huh?" The Liberion pilot relaxed a bit as Hughes finally cracked a smile.

"Th' acoustics in these hallways're surprisin'ly good," he stated simply. "Tha's all. Yer dismissed."

After Fiske finally left the lieutenant's office he heaved a great sigh of relief. That made two bullets dodged today. He had already come to the realization that his luck couldn't hold out forever.

" _You know,"_ he thought to himself seriously, " _I really_ _ **do**_ _need to change my ways. Otherwise, I'm going to wind up friendless or dead…or both."_

* * *

 ** _\- September 13, 1943  
\- Captain Yeager's Quarters  
\- 01:14 Hours_**

Charlotte was half asleep when she heard the outer door to her quarters squeak slightly and tiny bare feet padding towards her bedroom. She turned on her side to see the silhouette of Francesca outlined in her bedroom doorway.

"Shirley?" Francesca whispered questioningly.

"Nervous about tomorrow?" Charlotte responded.

"…yeah, kinda," Francesca answered, hoping Charlotte wouldn't be angry for waking her up.

In the darkness, the little Romagnan couldn't see the older girl's warm smile, but the warmth carried through in her voice, setting the younger girl at ease.

"C'mon then," Charlotte said, lifting the side of the blanket so Francesca could climb in with her.

The tiny ace dove into the bed and snuggled up to Charlotte with a sigh of contentment and closed her eyes. "Thanks, Shirley," she said happily. Charlotte smiled tenderly as she stroked Francesca's hair. "Jeez, kiddo, we may as well move all your crap down here. You practically live here anyway."

"Mmmhmm," Francesca murmured sleepily. Charlotte chuckled softly and settled in to sleep herself.

 ** _\- Enlisted Personnel Quarters  
\- 02:20 Hours_**

Yoshika was plodding back to bed. The cold stone floor under her bare feet made her shiver a bit. Living in an old castle wasn't nearly as awesome as she thought it would be. The whole place was chill and damp inside…even during the summer months. And the hallways went on forever.

" _Gosh, you'd think they'd have built the toilets closer to the sleeping quarters, wouldn't you?"_

As she turned the corner to head into her room, she saw a shaft of light from under the door adjacent to her own. " _Lynn-chan's still up?"_ She tapped lightly on the door. "Lynne-chan. It's me. Are you awake?"

There was only silence and Yoshika was about to walk away when she heard Lynette's voice answer her softly. "Yes, I'm awake Yoshika-chan. Please, come in."

Yoshika opened the door to find Lynette sitting cross-legged on her bed, hugging the large brown teddy bear her brothers had sent to her for her birthday. "You couldn't sleep either?" Lynne asked.

"Aré? Oh. No, no," Yoshika answered. "I was sleeping fine. I just had to use the toilet."

She entered the room fully, shutting the door behind her. "You can't get to sleep?" she asked, concern clear in her voice. "What's wrong? Is everything OK?"

"Yes," Lynne answered softly, "Everything's fine."

In spite of her words, it was obvious to Yoshika that her friend was _not_ fine. Sitting down on the bed next to Lynne, she took the older girl's hand in her own. "Is it about what happened today?"

Lynn nodded, averting her eyes.

Yoshika sighed. "I'm sure Fiske-san didn't mean any harm. He seems like a decent enough person actually, even though I _was_ kinda mean to him."

"I know," Lynne answered in a quiet, dejected voice. "I know it's me. I am so stupid. I am such a coward," she stated ashamedly, beginning to tear up. "I should have been able to…"

Yoshika cut her off. "Hey, hey…where's all this coming from?"

She tucked Lynette under the chin and drew her gaze up to her own. "You're certainly _not_ stupid Lynn-chan. And you are in _no way_ a coward. How could you even think that?"

She felt the older girl grip her hand tighter. "I-I can't even deal with people like a grown-up. I shouldn't need you to come to my rescue over every little thing. Especially something silly, like turning down an offer of a date," she explained dejectedly. "I know most men are decent people. I shouldn't be afraid of them, but I can only seem to act normally around my brothers and my f-f-f-father."

Yoshika couldn't help noticing her slight stutter as she mentioned her father. She had noted it before as well, on the rare occasion Lynne would talk about her family. It only served to make the suspicions Yoshika had begun to harbor even stronger. She hoped beyond hope that her suspicions were wrong.

But…this definitely _wasn't_ the time to bring it up, so she filed it in the back of her mind. For now.

"People are people, Lynne-chan. Some people just aren't good in social situations. It doesn't make you stupid or a coward or _anything_ like that," she encouraged, taking Lynne's head gently in both hands and brushing the tears away with her thumbs. "So don't think like that, ok?"

With a sniffle and a weak smile, Lynne nodded a yes. "Good," Yoshika smiled back. "Would you like me to stay here with you tonight?" Lynne nodded yes once more.

"Okay, then. I'll be right back."

She hopped off the bed and scampered to her room to get her pillow.

Lynette's emotions were a jumble. She felt so sad and so happy at the same. " _She may not love me the same way I love her, but I know she cares about me. She's my dearest friend. That's enough…right?"_


	5. London Calling

****A/N:**** Welcome back. Please enjoy this chapter. ** **  
****

"Strike Witches hajimeru yo!"

 **London Calling!**

* * *

 **- _September 13, 1943_**  
 **- _RAF Mildenhall Shared Flight Facilities_**  
 **- _Main Gate — 11:50 Hours_**

 **~ Welcome to RAF Mildenhall** **Open House ~**  
 **~ Support Our Troops** **~  
**

There were people bustling everywhere. A large stage was being erected in an open area off the main compound and structures that looked very much like festival booths were under construction, as well. Only the presence of television cameras and equipment, bearing the logos of various worldwide news organizations, hinted that this was anything but a local community outreach event.

The seven members of the 'Propaganda Squad' were met at the front gate by a spunky blond-haired corporal clutching a clipboard to her chest and waving frantically. "Yoo-hoo, over here!" The group watched as the girl trotted over to where the transport truck had dropped them. Panting a bit with exertion, she stopped in front of Charlotte and saluted.

"Captain Yeager welcome to Mildenhall Airfield I'm Corporal Donnelly I've been assigned as your liaison during your stay here anything you people need day or night I'm your go-to person just leave it to me."

She gasped for breath after that single run-on sentence.

Although highly amused by the corporal's demeanor, Charlotte managed to maintain her composure and answered the young lady seriously. "Thank you, Corporal. We'll be counting on you, then."

The soldier beamed with pleasure. "Well then, if you would all follow me please?"

The group picked up their bags and followed the corporal into the camp proper. As they moved deeper into the cacophony, it became evident that the structures were gaming booths, food stalls…it looked like a Liberion county fair or a Fuso religious festival.

"Boy, when you guys say 'open house' you aren't kidding," Fiske noted with a bemused look. "They _do_ know there's a war going on, don't they?"

"Oh, yeah. 'Of course, they do," the corporal answered with a grin. "That's just how we are, you know? Steady on. Business as usual. Trains are on tic. Teatime at 2:30." She winked. "Never underestimate Britannish steadfast determination."

— —

After getting her charges settled in their temporary quarters, Corporal Donnelly escorted them to the main building where the public relations office for their briefing with Major Granby, Mildenhall's PR coordinator. Charlotte wondered when military bases started having a PR department in the first place.

The meeting was mercifully short, mostly involving when to be where, the length of the mock engagement, whose hand to shake and appropriate poses for the paparazzi. The major ran them through their paces a couple of times and seemed satisfied with the results. To end the briefing, he handed out folders that contained all the information they had just covered.

"Alright then. I think we have everything sorted, no? Everyone has their timetable?" The flamboyant officer smiled in approval at the affirmative nods he received. "Wonderful! Any questions? No? Super. Okay then, kids. Nice work today. You're on your own until 0830 tomorrow morning. Dismissed."

* * *

 **- _RAF Mildenhall Shared Flight Facilities_**  
 **- _Abingdon Hall Guest Quarters — 12:30 Hours_**

After yesterday's incident with Corporal Fiske and all that had happened afterward, Lynette's feelings for Yoshika had reignited even more strongly. She told herself she wasn't going to just give up. There was something there. She could feel it.

She knew what she wanted. What she needed to do was fight for it.

As it turned out, an opportunity presented itself almost immediately. Lynne had the idea as soon as she found out they were on liberty for the day. She decided to push through with it before she lost her nerve.

"Yoshika-chan? I know this area of London quite well. I attended school in West End."

Yoshika gave her a curious look.

"I know some really interesting places. I could show you around. I-If you would like me too, that is."

The Fuso maiden smiled at the idea of spending time alone with Lynette and answered her enthusiastically, "Hai!"

Lynne was turning cartwheels in her mind. She had someplace special she wanted to share with Yoshika, but she had never thought it would be possible. She couldn't believe her good fortune.

There was a light knock on the door. "Yes?" Yoshika called out. Charlotte stuck her head in. "Hey. We're all going out to wander around the city for a while. You two should come along."

Lynette's joy evaporated instantly. " _NO!"_ she screamed in her head, _"no no no no no no no no."_ She struggled to keep her emotions in check. "Um…well, w-we…I-I mean…" she stammered.

Yoshika noticed her friend's discomfort immediately and came to her rescue. "Actually Shirley-san, Lynne-chan wanted to show me her old school and neighborhood." She smiled brightly. "That's okay, right?"

"Of course it is. You guys have fun. Just be back on base by 2130. We have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow." She gave the girls a wink. "Stay out of trouble." The door shut and the tension visibly flowed out of Lynne's body.

"Thank you Yoshika-chan." Lynne said gratefully.

"Sure," Yoshika answered warmly, continuing to put her clothes away. "I was looking forward to spending time with you, too."

* * *

Fiske and Mallory were waiting for the others in the barracks entrance hall. Fiske stood up when he spotted Charlotte and Francesca approaching.

"So, will they be joining us?" he asked, wondering why the two had arrived alone.

"They've already made their plans for the day," Charlotte told him. "How about Lieutenant Hughes? Is he going to tag along?"

"Nope. He had some documents to drop off with the base CO," Fiske answered. "Afterwards, he said he plans to visit with family."

"Ok. Well, just us then," exclaimed the redhead cheerfully. "Let's go get up to something."

* * *

London was simply overwhelming for Yoshika. Everywhere she turned, she saw something new and fascinating. Having been born and raised in a medium-sized coastal village the sheer volume of people was mind boggling, in and of itself. West End, where Lynette had brought her, was an area dominated by bookstores, art galleries, and performance spaces.

Lynette loved the curiosity, enthusiasm, and delight Yoshika showed toward everything new. Her petite angel seemed to have an unquenchable thirst for learning. Although she hid it well underneath her bouncy and air-headed personality, Yoshika was quite the little intellectual. Over the course of their time together, Lynette was often astounded by breadth and depth of her knowledge of random and seemingly unrelated subjects.

Lynne took note that Yoshika's only large purchase wasn't for herself, but for her grandmother. A leather-bound first edition by chemist Bowden Grey, easily costing three months' wages. She looked on with adoration as the tiny brunette paged through the book mumbling excitedly. "…sugoi…cross-referenced formulary…liner notes…case studies…she'll absolutely love this."

The chestnut-haired cutie practically danced up to the checkout counter, clasping the book close to her chest. In Lynette's eyes, Yoshika was shining like the sun.

As they continued shopping and chatting, seeing the sights and enjoying each other's company, the war and the problems of the world seemed to fade to insignificance. Four hours had passed without either one noticing until Yoshika's stomach growled in protest. A light pink flush colored her cheeks. Lynette found her embarrassment rather adorable.

"We should get some lunch Yoshika-chan. I'm getting a bit hungry too." She looked around to get her bearings. "Oh, I know just the place. Come on."

Taking the younger girl's hand, she led her down the sidewalk. Soon they were standing in front of a classic brick structure with large bay windows overlooking an outdoor garden and dining area. Even the outdoor tables were covered in fine linen and set with sparkling crystal glassware and sterling silver utensils. Above the door was an expertly crafted wooden sign reading 'Foxcroft & Ginger.'

Yoshika's eyes widened in panic and she ground to a halt. She didn't imagine she could even afford a slice of cake from a place like this, let alone lunch. Lynne was puzzled to see the normally unreserved Yoshika look intimidated until she gave it some thought. Knowing the cute little Fuso girl was from humble origins, she decided to take the initiative for once and help her feel comfortable in this strange environment.

"Lunch is on me, Yoshika-chan. Don't worry about a thing," Lynne said excitedly. "My family runs an account here and I've never even come close to the limit." Seeing the look on Lynne's face was all it took for Yoshika to overcome her unease. She allowed herself to be led onto the terrace.

After a long and leisurely lunch, the two girls went back to strolling the sidewalks. As they were walking past a creamery, Lynette was once more seized by inspiration. She had Yoshika wait for her on the sidewalk and quickly ran in. She returned with two chocolate milkshakes.

Yoshika accepted the offered treat, and her face lit up after her first sip. "Sugoi!" she exclaimed, looking up wide-eyed. "Lynne-chan, this…this is **awesome**!" The Britannian beauty giggled in delight at her friends' reaction.

The lengthening shadows signaled afternoon was well underway. Lynette, who had been uncharacteristically outgoing all day, suddenly seemed to revert to her normal self. She stopped walking and when Yoshika turned towards her questioningly, the honey brown-haired girl gave her a shy glance. This moment had been her goal the entire day. She simply couldn't back down now.

"A-actually Yoshika-chan…there is a place I wanted to take you. A very special place to me. Where I used to go, whenever I needed to be alone," she managed to say, looking bashfully into Yoshika's eyes. "I've never taken anyone there before. But I-I would really like to share it with you."

Yoshika couldn't believe what she was hearing. This entire day had been like some wonderful dream. Spending time alone with the girl she loved. Learning more about her and about the city she had grown up in. And now…the ease with which Lynne was opening up to her. Was it possible? Could she still, maybe, have a chance with her after all?

"I'll be happy to go wherever you want to take me, Lynne-chan," she answered quietly.

* * *

 **- _Regent's Park, London, Britannia  
\- Residence of Lady Ellen Darnell — 17:05 Hours_**

The residential neighborhoods were quiet and peaceful, quite a contrast from the rest of the city surrounding them. They approached an elegant row home, a stately granite affair with wrought-iron accents.

"This is my aunt's home. I lived here whilst I attended Gladwyyn." She opened the gate for Yoshika and gestured for her to enter. "She should be out of the country right now, but the staff will be on duty." She rang the doorbell and soon a serious-looking older man wearing a black formal suit opened the door.

The man's serious demeanor disappeared as soon as he saw who was standing at the door. He smiled happily, his eyes crinkling with unconcealed joy. "Miss Lynette! How wonderful to see you. Please. Come right in." He opened the door fully and bowed as they entered.

"Hello, Klaus. I've missed you so much," she said warmly. "How is everyone? How is Marci?"

"Everyone is quite well, Miss," Klaus answered, as he took the girls' coats. "But look at you. You're all grown up now, and so quickly! Your brothers and your aunt have kept us informed of your career. May I say, Miss, we are all quite proud of you."

The effusive praise caused Lynette to squirm a bit, self-consciously. "Thank you, Klaus." She turned to introduce the girl she was with. "Klaus, this is Sergeant Miyafuji Yoshika. She is my squad-mate and a very close friend."

Klaus faced Yoshika and bowed to her deeply. "It is a pleasure to meet you Miss Miyafuji. I thank you for your service. You are very welcome in our home."

Yoshika politely returned the bow. "Thank you, sir."

The servant led the two into the house proper. "Well, what brings you by this fine evening? Would you like us to prepare a dinner for you and your friend?"

"Oh, no, thank you. We had a late lunch. We're on liberty and I just thought I'd show Yoshika around the city a bit," Lynne explained. "We actually came by so I could show her the arboretum, if that's alright."

"Of course it is Miss. You don't even need to ask. This will always be _your_ home as well, after all." Klaus assured her. "Are you sure I can't get you anything? Tea perhaps?"

"Very well," Lynne finally relented, with a smile "If you could send some tea up, that would be wonderful."

The old butler's expression lightened considerably when he saw that smile. She seemed to be doing well, thank goodness. "I'll see to it, Miss," he called out, leaving the room with a lighter step than when he entered. He couldn't wait to tell his wife who had come home.

* * *

 **- _South London, Britannia  
_ \- _Strolling aimlessly — 17:45 Hours_**

The four wandering pilots had sampled almost every type of food they could find from the various street vendors, watched pavement artists, struggled through two acts of an open-air performance of Shakespeare's _'As You Like It'_ and threw money in Trafalgar Square Fountain.

As evening was coming on, they found themselves in an older section of the city. Wandering semi-aimlessly, slowly making their way back to the airbase, Charlotte and Fiske were trailing behind the two youngsters.

"Arrrgh!" Francesca griped loudly. "Bored now. There's gotta be _something_ else to do." She looked sideways at Mallory and the Liberion boy shrugged his shoulders. "Don' look at me. Ah got nothin'."

"What do you guys normally do for fun when you're off duty?" Fiske asked.

Before Charlotte could answer, there was a metallic crashing sound from the alleyway they had just walked past. A woman's voice called out for help but was cut short. The group glanced at each other briefly, then ran back to the mouth of the alley.

At the far end, two rather rough-looking thugs were tormenting their prey, a well-dressed older couple who looked completely out of their element. The tall one was holding the two at knife-point, while the fat one rifled through the woman's purse.

Francesca gave Charlotte a pleading look "Shirley…can I?"

"Knock yourself out kiddo," the older girl grinned. "You need to work off some of that nervous energy anyway."

With a loud whoop, the twin-tailed terror invoked her spirit animal and launched herself down the dark alley at top speed. Startled by the loud noise, 'Knife Guy' (as Francesca had dubbed him in her mind) turned to the source of the sound. All that registered in the split-second before impact was a four-foot-nothing blur of sneakers and pigtails.

She jumped, throwing her right leg out and rigid, allowing momentum to do most of the work. There was a loud crack as the man's jaw was dislocated. He reeled for an instant and then dropped like a log.

The momentum carried her past her target, hurtling towards a dumpster. She tucked her body and spun to land on the dumpster's edge, immediately shoving off to leap on 'Fat Guy,' who was still holding the purse. She had actually planned all this out ahead of time. Shirley was going to be so proud of her.

She nailed 'Fat Guy' square in the gut, knocking the wind out of him and dumping him, unceremoniously, on his ass. He already looked scared out of his wits but, just to juice him a bit more, Francesca gave him a guttural snarl, baring her fang menacingly.

'Fat Guy' scrambled to his feet and ran, screaming in terror. 'Knife Guy' was out cold and wouldn't be waking up anytime soon. It was done so quickly the victims were unsure what had just happened. Francesca stooped to retrieve the woman's purse.

"Here you are, ma'am. Are you hurt at all?"

The older woman stared at the little Romagnan, dumbfounded. "Umm…no…no…I'm fine. T-thank you so much, Miss...?"

"Ensign Francesca Lucchini, at your service," she answered brightly, throwing a snappy salute in the process. Charlotte's loud whistle pierced the air. "Oops, gotta go. You guys be careful out there. Ciao!" She scampered back to the group.

Mallory was applauding and pumping his fist in the air. "That was _so_ awesome, Lucchini," he enthused. "Whadda ya call that first move? That was, like, devastating."

"Hmmm…" Francesca thought for a moment. "I'll call it 'Super Lucchini Kick'," she announced, striking a pose and giving a thumbs up. Sharing a laugh, the group continued on down the street.

"Ah," Fiske observed. "So _this_ is what you guys do for fun."

Charlotte gave him a lopsided grin. "Eh, it beats Canasta."

* * *

Yoshika followed behind Lynne as they ascended the carpeted stairs. She felt hyper-aware of the subtle cues the older girl's body language was giving off. Whatever it was Lynne wanted to show her, she knew it was something meaningful and deeply personal. Rather than try to create a lighter atmosphere, as she normally would, Yoshika decided to follow her lead.

They reached the fourth floor and Lynne strode purposefully up to a set of heavy oak double-doors, pushing them open and then turned and gestured for Yoshika to enter. The Fuso girl crossed the threshold and found herself standing in a large-but-cozy antechamber, with a lush grayish-tan carpet, built-in bookcases comprising the two far walls were fronted by a number of overstuffed easy chairs. Beyond that, a single step down brought one into the main room — the arboretum, itself. This single room ran the length of the town home, with the southwest wall comprised of glass from floor to ceiling, and part of the roof as well. The afternoon sun painted the interior brick a deep, mellow orange.

There were flowers and plants everywhere. The scent that filled the room — not only of plant life but of soil and moisture — was indescribable. The darker room décor and the bright foliage contrasted in a pleasant, organic fashion. A feeling of utter peace suffused the room.

"This is my special place Yoshika-chan," Lynne stated simply.

Yoshika was at a loss for words. She didn't know a place like this existed in Western culture. It felt to her as if she were in the Britannish version of a zen garden. "It's wonderful, Lynne-chan."

The bashful Britannian tentatively took Yoshika by the hand and led her to a couch on the far side of the room, while the little Fuso healer tried to take in everything. "Some of these are medicinal herbs," she noted with interest.

"Really?"

"Hai," Yoshika explained. "This is Crocosmia Aurea. It's used for treating dysentery. And this is Actaea Racemosa. It can be used to treat muscle inflammation and arthritis."

Lynette gave her an embarrassed smile. "I thought they were just pretty flowers."

"They are also that," Yoshika smiled back.

There was a light knock at the door, a maid entered carrying a large silver tray. Before Yoshika was able to blink twice, the maid had set everything up on the coffee table in front of them. An elegant porcelain-and-brass teapot that looked as if were worth a king's ransom, matching tableware, a carafe of fresh cream, sugar cubes and a tray of biscuits. She bowed and was gone as quickly as she came.

Lynne poured tea for them both and they settled back, enjoying a comfortable silence. Eventually, Lynne stood up and slowly walked around the room, making physical contact with many of the objects in the room. An ornate world globe, perched on one of the reading tables. A statue, or award, of some kind on a bookshelf. A phonograph. She appeared almost nostalgic.

"When I started attending classes at Gladwyyn, I was so nervous. I was the new kid," She gave a self-depreciating laugh. "Three years later, when I graduated, I was _still_ the 'new kid.'"

She turned to face Yoshika, wearing a soft, bittersweet smile.

"Mother died when I was 10. My brothers had just graduated and were already enlisted in the military. My sister left home years ago. So there was only myself and f-father. I was accepted into Gladwyyn, and my aunt Ellen — my mother's sister — offered to let me live here. I discovered this room a few days after I arrived. It quickly became my favorite place…to read, to study or just be alone with my thoughts."

Sighing softly, she turned to face the bookcase once more.

"When I'm here, it's like the world doesn't exist. Nothing can disturb me here. Nothing can reach me here," she whispered, her fingers absently stroking the spine of a book. "He can't touch me here."

Yoshika realized immediately that last statement had slipped out so subconsciously that Lynette herself was unaware she had said it. Suddenly everything fell into place in her mind and solidified her deepest suspicions. Lynne's reticent personality, her discomfort with strangers, her difficulty dealing with men, her awkwardness in social settings, her stutter…

Having lived with and fought beside Lynette, she had seen the girl face fears and overcome them. She _knew_ Lynette was a strong person. But _this_ pain, _this_ fear…it was too dark, too horrible to be borne alone. In a world without a mother, without anyone to trust, without anyone to talk to, the pressure to preserve her family's social status — Lynne had no choice but to turn inward to protect whatever part of herself she still had.

The sudden revelation was almost too much for Yoshika. Knowing that Lynne had to carry this fear and this hurt for all this time, and all alone…she had to stop herself from bursting into tears. She wanted nothing more at this moment than to gather the older girl in her arms and protect her with all that she had. What little psychological knowledge she possessed told her that now was not the time for that.

Lynne was opening to her now, more and more; however, when one is the most open is also when they are the most vulnerable. However, being comfortable enough around Yoshika that she could let some things slip out, even if only subconsciously, aided in relieving the pressure on her mind.

Yoshika knew she could do nothing directly. She didn't have proper training. She could easily do more harm than good. What she could do was be there for her, help to support her emotionally and do her best to guide Lynne into seeking out someone who could help her.

She had calmed herself enough that she could speak without her voice breaking, but still, it was an effort to keep her tone neutral. "I can see why this place is so special to you Lynne-chan. Thank you for sharing it with me."

"You are my dearest friend, Yoshika-chan. I have never had someone in my life that I could trust so completely," Lynne stated sincerely. "You've helped me so much, just by being my friend, I can't begin to tell you what that _*yawwwn*_ means to me."

Yoshika patted the empty spot on the sofa next to her. "You look a bit tired, Lynne-chan. We still have three and a half hours before we have to report in. We've got time to catch a quick nap."

Lynne nodded and sat down. She didn't object when Yoshika slipped an arm around her shoulder and guided her down to rest her head in Yoshika's lap — just being together in the peaceful silence.

Lynette gave a contented sigh. "Thank you."

"Hmmm?"

"For today," she continued. "For this. For being my friend."

"The same goes for me Lynne-chan," Yoshika replied sincerely.

"After I met you, I realized something." Lynette murmured sleepily. "Something important."

"What did you realize?" Yoshika asked quietly, gently stroking Lynette's loose tresses.

"You can't really appreciate how beautiful something is unless you share it with someone," she whispered. Soon her breathing became soft and even. She was fast asleep, safe under Yoshika's tender gaze.

Honey-gold light poured into the small arboretum, cast by the slowly setting sun, giving everything it touched an almost ethereal glow. The cityscape below had already fallen to the cool oranges and purples of dusk. Streetlights began to flare on, here and there, like stars twinkling in the night sky.

" _You're right Lynne-chan. It_ _ **is**_ _beautiful."_ Yoshika thought, her emotions catching in her throat. _"And I'm so very happy that you chose me to share it with."_


	6. Peace, Love and Understanding!

****A/N:**** Welcome back. Please enjoy this chapter. ** **  
****

"Strike Witches hajimeru yo!"

 **Peace, Love and Understanding**

* * *

 **- _September 13, 1943_**  
 **- _Regent's Park, London, Britannia  
\- Residence of Lady Ellen Darnell — 21:00 Hours_**

"Miss Miyafuji?"

Yoshika sleepily opened her eyes in response to the voice that was gently trying to awaken her. It took her fuzzy head a few seconds to register where she was. She looked up with bleary eyes. "Klaus-san?"

"I am terribly sorry to disturb you both," he said quietly, "but I thought you should know that it is 9 pm."

Yoshika's eyes snapped open as she came fully awake. "Oh. Oh _no_! We have to report back in half an hour. We'll never make it in time."

This was all her fault. She had wanted Lynne to rest, knowing that she had been tired from their long day out, as well as the now obvious stress she always carried inside of her. She had intended to watch over her, not meaning to fall asleep, herself. Before she could panic, Klaus placed a gentle hand on her arm.

"I anticipated as much, Miss," Klaus told her, still speaking quietly so as not to wake Lynette. "I took the liberty of having the car brought around. We can have you both back to the base in minutes. Please don't worry."

"Really?" She breathed a sigh of relief. "Klaus-san arigato gozaimasu."

"I will await you both downstairs. Please ask Miss Lynette to stop in the kitchen on her way down. My wife made her a Care package" He gave Yoshika a wink. "I know it contains a batch of the butter toffee biscuits she loves so well."

Like the stately older gentleman he was, Klaus bowed to her once more and silently made his way out of the room.

Yoshika looked down at the beautiful girl sleeping peacefully in her lap. She hated the thought of disturbing her but they really needed to leave. She leaned over and whispered softly into Lynette's ear. "Lynne-chan? Gomenasai, we have to get up now."

Lynette smiled, although her eyes remained closed. "It's alright, Yoshika-chan. I'm awake."

She remained lying in Yoshika's lap as she sleepily stretched her arms and arched her body. She then turned face up and opened her eyes, looking directly into Yoshika's own.

Lynette looked…different, Yoshika thought. Something in her eyes was different. Even under normal circumstances, everyday life, Lynne always looked slightly uneasy. She never made extended eye contact with anyone, shifting her gaze as if fearing scrutiny. When around unfamiliar people, she would almost visibly shrink into herself.

But now, Lynette's eyes were clear and full of life. No…more than that. They were the eyes of someone who had come to terms with something…who had set a great weight aside. She was still Lynette, but it seemed as if the Lynette she knew had been a slightly blurred version — trapped in amber — and had finally broken free of her prison.

" _What…_ _ **happened**_ _?"_

"Hello. Are you feeling a bit better now?"

"Mmmmmmmm," Lynne answered with a lazy smile, stretching her body again. "Marci's butter toffee biscuits. I can't wait." She reached up and caressed Yoshika's cheek in an intimate manner. "Are you ready to go?"

Yoshika suddenly found she had forgotten how to breathe. All she could manage was to nod a 'yes.' The chestnut-haired cutie was absolutely stunned by the manner in which Lynette was acting. Forthright…flirtatious even, like she had been earlier in the day. The intensity of the older girl's gaze had her mesmerized.

Lynette sat up, shaking off the remaining drowsiness clouding her mind. She stood and offered Yoshika her hand. "Shall we?"

Yoshika took the proffered hand, allowing Lynette to pull her up from the sofa. She got another surprise when Lynette's arms wrapped around her waist and drew her close. Hugging the tiny brunette tightly, she spoke softly into her ear. "Thank you so much for today. I cannot imagine having a more wonderful day, or spending it with a more wonderful person."

Lynne then pulled back a bit, so she could look at her directly. "You mean everything in the world to me, Yoshika-chan. I just want you to know that."

Releasing her hold, Lynette turned and headed for the door. It took Yoshika a moment to collect herself. She just stood there, processing everything that had just happened over the last two minutes. Savoring the feeling of Lynette's arms around her, of Lynette's warm breath as she whispered in her ear, of Lynette's sparkling eyes holding her captive…

"Are you coming, Yoshika-chan?"

"Oh! H-hai."

— —

Klaus was just about to walk out the door when the girls reached the main foyer. "Ah, Miss Lynette. I'll be waiting in the car for you. I believe you still have a few minutes. Marci has been waiting to see you, if you don't mind."

"Of course." Lynette said. "Thank you so much, Klaus."

"Not at all, Miss," the butler answered with a smile.

Lynne turned to Yoshika, clasping both of her hands. "I really wanted you to meet Marci, but we simply don't have the time right now. I hope one day you will come back here with me, so I can introduce you properly."

"I will Lynne-chan. I promise." Yoshika assured her. "Ano…my head's still a bit muzzy from that nap. I'll wait for you outside, okay? I'm sure some fresh air will wake me up."

"Okay. I'll be as quick as I can." Releasing Yoshika's hands, Lynne hurried down the hallway towards the kitchen.

Yoshika watched as she disappeared into a doorway, then she walked out the front entrance. The crisp night air filled her lungs and cleared her mind. Zipping up her jacket and stuffing her hands in the pockets, she leaned against the granite railing of the porch and raised her head to take in the night sky.

Not many stars were visible, due to the light pollution a massive city like London threw off. But some few shone through. The smell of fireplaces, lit against the autumn chill, tinged the air. It was quiet, save for the background noise of the occasional vehicle passing by.

" _She loves me. She's been trying so hard to tell me all this time and I've been blind to it."_

Yoshika thought back to all the times they had shared since they had met a few months earlier. The memories of everything that made Lynette so special to Yoshika came to the forefront of her mind.

And also… that day… That horrible day.

Looking at it from this perspective, she suddenly realized that both of them had probably misunderstood the entire situation. She had been angry about Commander Wilcke's seemingly unfair restrictions on the flight crew. She was upset because she felt like the men were being discriminated against. But…what if Lynne thought she was upset for an entirely different reason?

They had, both of them, jumped to conclusions. Lynette because of her low self-esteem and herself because she was being completely stupid.

She recalled today's outing, replaying the entire day in her mind. Lynette had been attentive and engaged. Yoshika was so happy to see her friend truly enjoying herself, that she hadn't given any thought as to _why_ she seemed so different. Little intimate gestures she had made…casual but meaningful discussions they had. Then coming here…their interaction in the arboretum — Lynne's special place.

" _Lynne-chan planned the entire day around us arriving at this point. Her equivalent of hitting me over the head with a 2x4._ _I truly am an idiot. How could I not see it?"_

A regretful smile tugged at her lips. " _Lynne-chan,"_ she thought sadly, " _please forgive me. I didn't understand. But I do now."_

Determination filled her soul.

" _I love you too and tonight I will let you know. I'm sorry for making you wait so long."_

* * *

Lynette entered the warmly lit kitchen. There at the table, sipping her tea, sat Marci. Like her husband Klaus, she was in her mid-50's. Even wearing a maid's uniform, she projected a motherly aura that Lynette had cherished after the passing of her own mother.

Marci got up from the table and rushed to envelop Lynne in a warm hug. "Hello, dear. It's so good to see you." She was beaming, even while sniffling, trying to hold in her tears. "I've missed you so very much."

Lynette was overcome with emotion as well. For over three years, this woman had taken care of her, worried over her and loved her as much as she did her own children.

"I'm sorry I didn't make more time to visit Marci. I didn't even know I was coming until this morning."

"It's alright dear, I understand. You're doing a very important job," the older woman assured. "I know you haven't forgotten us."

They broke apart from their hug and Lynette took a nostalgic look around the kitchen. The arrangement of fresh flowers on the wide windowsill. The biscuit jar, as always, filled with Marci's baked goods. But the refrigerator looked different. It was plastered with photos and news clippings held by magnets or sticky-tape. They covered the side and part of the door.

Photos of Capel-le-Ferne and of her squadron. Most of them, however, were of her…usually along with another member of the squadron. And in the majority of those, Yoshika was the squad member she was pictured with. Marci followed her gaze.

"The 501st are in the news a lot, it seems," she said with an air of pride in her voice. "You and your friends are really amazing, Lynne. You've grown so much…done so well. I'm so very proud of you."

She took Lynne by the hand and together they walked over to the refrigerator. She pointed at one of the pictures. "That's the girl you brought with you, right?"

Lynette blushed slightly. "Yes. Her name is Yoshika," she answered breathlessly. "She is my most precious friend. I wanted you to meet her, but I…kind of fell asleep," she finished in embarrassment.

"Klaus told me she seems like a fine young lady," Marci said kindly. "So…when are you going to tell her?"

"Huh?" Lynne looked at her in confusion. "Tell her?"

"That you're in love with her," Marci stated simply.

Lynette's eyes opened wide. "H-how…?"

"How did I know?" She gave Lynne a gentle smile and stroked her hair. "My dear, I've raised four daughters. I certainly know the look of a girl in love."

"Well, I-I'm working on that right now, actually. I have been dropping many hints lately. _Especially_ today," Laughing softly, she added, "Yoshika is very smart, but sometimes she can be completely clueless."

"Hmmm, sounds like Klaus," Marci chuckled. Lynne hugged her again tightly and the older held her tenderly, remained like that for an extended moment. She had missed this warmth, and feeling of security.

Reluctantly, Lynette finally broke the embrace. "I'm so sorry, but I really have to go," she said sadly, her voice full of regret. "If we aren't back at the base on time we'll get into trouble."

"I know dear. It's alright," Marci assured her. "Best get going then. Just promise me you'll come home again as soon as you are able."

"I promise I will. Is…is it okay if I bring Yoshika with me too?"

"You'd **better** bring her. I want to meet this girl who has stolen your heart."

Lynette giggled happily. Glancing at the kitchen counter she spied something else. Giving Marci her best puppy-dog look she said, "Ummm… butterrr tofffeeee?"

The maid rolled her eyes heavenward with a poorly-suppressed grin, then walked over to the counter near the stove and picked up a box, carefully wrapped in plain brown paper. She handed the package to Lynette, ruffled her hair and kissed her on the cheek. Then, grabbing her shoulders, she spun the girl around and shooed her out the door with a pat on the behind.

"Off with you."

She waved goodbye, waited until Lynne had gone…and allowed the tears to come.

" _Please take good care of yourself, Lynette. Please come home safely."_

 _— —_

The sound of the opening door pulled Yoshika from her thoughts. Lynette closed the door gently and turned to face her friend. She looked extremely happy, Yoshika thought, although it looked as if she had been crying a bit, too. It was quite obvious that these people meant a lot to Lynette.

She wished they didn't have to rush. Lynne had been looking more alive than she had ever seen. She hoped it would continue. As they approached the car, Klaus got out and opened the rear door. Taking each girl firmly by the hand, he assisted them getting in.

He looked through the window at Lynne, his serious, professional face melting into a grin. "You've only got 10 minutes Miss. I believe this could technically be considered a matter of State, wouldn't you think?" he stated, giving her a playful wink.

Yoshika watched the exchange in puzzlement. Even more so when Lynne's only response was to smile and nod.

The car moved quickly down the residential street and soon came to a main artery. Klaus pulled into traffic and immediately cut into the far-right lane, where punched the accelerator, passing car after car. Yoshika leaned over to Lynne and whispered, "Isn't Klaus-san worried about getting a speeding ticket?"

"My aunt Ellen works for the Foreign Ministry," Lynne explained with a hint of embarrassment. "This car has diplomatic plates. We could probably rob a bank and not get pulled over."

When Yoshika arched her eyebrow, Lynne chuckled, "Well, maybe not rob a bank, but…"

The ride continued on in silence. Yoshika watched the streets of London pass by and began thinking about what she was going to do tonight, and how she was going to do it. She was lost in thought, staring out of the window when Lynette suddenly startled her with a shout.

"Yoshika-chan!"

She jerked her head around, and Lynette stuffed a cookie into her mouth, rewarded by the comical look of confusion on Yoshika's face.

"Butter Toffee biscuit," Lynne stated, with a playful look. "They're addictive."

As Yoshika munched on the cookie, Lynne leaned her head to rest on Yoshika's shoulder. Once more Yoshika felt completely flustered. Her pulse raced.

" _She's being_ _ **so**_ _adorable. I'm going to confess to her. And I know she'll say yes…probably. So why do I feel so nervous? I don't_ _do_ _'nervous.'"_

Jittery butterflies danced in her stomach.

" _This is either going to be a lot easier than I thought or a lot harder than I thought."_

* * *

 ** _\- RAF Mildenhall Shared Flight Facilities  
\- Officers Club — 22:10 Hours_**

Charlotte sat at a table in a darker corner of the bar, along with Corporal Fiske, a Jack and Coke and a second pitcher of beer. They were pleasantly buzzed and watching Francesca and Vince Mallory shoot pool.

"They certainly seem to get along well," Charlotte observed.

"Yeah," Fiske agreed. "I think Vince is really enjoying hanging out with someone closer to his own age for once," he laughed. "To him, Padric and I are the 'old guys.'"

Charlotte smiled in sympathy. "I know what you mean. I'm not quite 20, but I feel old compared to Lucchini, Miyafuji and Bishop."

Fiske rocked his chair back on two legs and fished around in his pocket for a cigar. He bit the tip and lit it. Noticing Charlotte watching with interest, he asked, "You want one?"

"Hell, yes! A necessity when drinking." She reached over and took the offered cheroot, got it lit, took a few puffs and sat back in contentment. "I know it bothers some people, but I just love the smell of these. It really takes me back."

Fiske took a sip of his beer and waited for Charlotte to continue.

"I used to hang out with my granddad a lot. His office and the hanger always smelled like cigar smoke. So cigars just remind me of good times."

"Hanger?" Fiske questioned. "Was he a pilot too?"

"Yup. He was a pilot in the Great War and in his later years he ran a crop-dusting service. Did some barnstorming too. Texans love that stuff." Her smile was happy but wistful.

"He taught me to how fly a plane, how to ride a motorcycle. He gave me his old Indian Chief for my 12th birthday. And this jacket." She tugged the collar "Although it was way too big for me at the time."

"That's pretty cool." Fiske grinned. He then stood up and headed for the back wall. "I'm gonna go feed the juke, you wanna hear anything in particular?"

Charlotte scrunched her brow in thought. "Charlie Parker? John Coltrane would be sweet, if they got him."

The corporal nodded in approval. "You're into hard bop? Awesome."

While Fiske was occupied, Charlotte once again turned her scrutiny to the youngsters. It looked like Mallory had won the current round. Francesca was playfully punching him in the arm.

Fiske sat back down at the table just as the first few chords of 'Tracitisim' started playing. Charlotte gave him a surprised look. "Oscar Peterson? No way! Sweet!"

They sat for a while just enjoying the music and their cigars. A shout rang out as Mallory won yet another round of pool, leading Charlotte to believe that Francesca was most likely letting him win. Not obviously, though. She was making him work for it.

"I wonder if he likes her?" Charlotte mused.

"Well, yeah. I'm sure he does, but not in the way that you mean. Vince is gay," Fiske explained. "Actually, that's kinda how he ended up with us in the first place."

Charlotte was intrigued. "How do you mean?"

Fiske hesitated for a moment but decided there was no harm in telling the story. "When he told his parents his dad kicked him out of the house. Told him to never come back…"

"What the hell's with _that_?" Charlotte interrupted. "It's no big deal. I mean, same-sex marriage has been legal in Liberion since, what, 1923?"

"Yeah, I know. But Vince is from a particularly deep part of the Deep South. For some of those flatlanders, it's still the 1800's, y'know?" He sighed. "Poor kid. I know it hurt him pretty badly. You can tell he still idolizes his dad, even though he was treated so shabbily."

"So," he continued, "long story short, Vince enlisted and ended up testing with a high aptitude for aviation. He was already through the program when it was found out that he had lied about his age. He would have been discharged but he was only a couple of months short at that point. Rather than having wasted all that time and money training him, they just placed him on administrative leave until his birthday."

He filled his glass once more, emptying the pitcher. Charlotte turned towards the bar, signaling for another, then turned her attention back to Fiske.

"So, as things worked out, we ended up babysitting him." He smiled at the memory. "Padric…Lt. Hughes I mean, and I were both on medical furlough from a pretty bad engagement. We were the only two survivors of our squadron, so we were at loose ends until we were to get slotted again."

Charlotte gave him a questioning look. "The only two survivors? What happened?"

"The Battle of Khartoum," he stated simply.

Charlotte drew in a sharp breath. "Oh, my god. You were 42nd Airborne?"

Fiske gave a short nod.

Charlotte reached across the table and placed her hand over his, giving it a squeeze. "I'm so sorry."

"We lost a lot of good people that day. I lost a lot of good friends." Fiske looked at her slightly misty-eyed. "But in the end, there we were, and we ended up taking Vince under our wing. He became our way of focusing on getting past everything. Padric took him home on leave and now his wife has pretty much adopted him." His smile became more genuine again. "When we're off duty, Padric treats him like a surrogate son. I guess we three are pretty close."

"And, as it turned out, we were in the right place at the right time to get picked for the MAGUS program." He chuckled at the irony. "Two messed-up guys without a squadron and one wet-behind-the-ears kid. A match made in heaven."

They sat again in silence for a while, simply drinking and enjoying the atmosphere. Their liaison, Corporal Donnelly, approached them. "Excuse me, ma'am. I checked the duty log as you asked. Sergeant Bishop and Sergeant Miyafuji signed in at 2128."

" _They cut that a bit close,"_ Charlotte mused, _"Although, I wouldn't have bitched if they were a few minutes late. If they were, they would have had a good reason."_

"Thanks, Corporal," she acknowledged. "Hmm. I wonder why they didn't show up? I left a note on their door telling them we would be here."

"Well, there _was_ a note on their door," Donnelly informed her, "but it said 'Do Not Disturb.'"

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "Really?" A smile formed on her lips. "Well then, I guess we shouldn't disturb them."

She gestured to the chair opposite her own. "Can we buy you a drink, Corporal?"

"Thank you ma'am, but I still have a ton of stuff left to do to get ready for tomorrow." She gave a salute and headed out the door.

Charlotte turned her attention back to Fiske. "That reminds me, what's up between you and Sergeant Miyafuji? She was giving you some pretty intense glares at dinner yesterday. It was definitely out of character for her."

Fiske had been hoping the subject wouldn't come up, but there was no avoiding it. He hoped Captain Yeager wouldn't be too angry with him. It felt like they were just becoming friends and he was sure her attitude would change now. But he wasn't going to lie to her.

So he laid it all out for her. How he tried to score with Sergeant Bishop, her reaction, his ignorance and Sergeant Miyafuji's intervention. All of it.

He finished the story and glanced at Charlotte to gauge her reaction. To his surprise, she burst out laughing. "Well, that explains a lot. I was going to say Yoshika wouldn't hurt a fly. But if that fly deigned to disturb her Princess, she'd probably commit fly genocide."

"So they **are** together. I figured that out, after the fact."

"Sadly, no," Charlotte told him.

"Huh?"

"It's obvious they are madly in love with one another." Charlotte sighed. "Everyone can see it except themselves. And so far, neither one has had the courage to do anything about it."

Fiske raised his shot-glass. "Ah, youth."

Charlotte raised hers as well. "Indeed."

They both knocked back their drinks and slammed the glasses on the table.

"Set up another round?" Charlotte asked her fellow Liberion aviator.

"You buying?"

"Sure, why not! I got an increase in pay grade along with my promotion," she proclaimed happily.

Fiske flashed her a grin. "Outstanding."

* * *

 ** _\- RAF Mildenhall Shared Flight Facilities_**  
 ** _\- Abingdon Hall Guest Quarters  
\- 21:35 Hours_**

Yoshika and Lynette walked down the hall towards their room. Approaching their door they saw a note taped to it. Out of the corner of her eye, Yoshika noticed Lynne furrow her brow slightly as she read the note.

 _ **"We're all at the Officers' Club.**  
 **You should come join us when**  
 **you get back. - Shirley"**  
_

"Do you want to go, Yoshika-chan?"

"Not really. I just want to stay in and relax for the rest of the night," Yoshika told her. "Is that okay?"

Lynette successfully kept the look of relief off her face. "Yes. I feel the same way. I just want to get cleaned up and ready for bed."

Yoshika peeled the note from the door and opened it for Lynne to enter. She placed the note on the desk by her bed while Lynne walked over to the desk on her side of the room and started to unpack her Care Package.

"Oh! Marci gave me a tin of Earl Gray," Lynette noticed. "We have a hot pot. Would you like me to heat up some water and make us both a cup of tea?"

"That'd be swell, Lynne-chan." Snagging a towel, a pair of panties and her nightgown, Yoshika headed for the bathroom. "I'll grab a quick shower while you're doing that, okay? That way you can take your time in the shower."

"Alright, Yoshika-chan. Thank you."

" _She's always so thoughtful of me in everything she does."_ Lynette's clenched a determined fist. " _She does all she can to show me how much she cares. Marci was right. I_ _ **have**_ _to say something. I have to tell her. Tonight!"_

Yoshika emerged from the bathroom in short order, toweling her hair, a cloud of steam and the fresh scent of soap accompanying her. "I'm done, Lynne-chan. It's all yours."

As soon Lynette entered the bathroom, Yoshika quickly went over to her desk and opened the drawers, looking for something to write with. There were a couple of pens, a set of mechanical pencils and a black magic marker. She took the marker out, flipped Charlotte's note over and wrote on the back.

" _ **Do Not Disturb"**_

After taping the note back on the door, she turned on the radio that was on the dresser. A pop station blared out of the speaker. Not the mood Yoshika was trying to set. She scanned the dial until she found a Classical station playing a soothing string selection. " _Ah, perfect."_

To kill time, Yoshika took out the copy of 'Stars and Stripes' she had picked up at the base Post Exchange earlier. Sitting down on her bed, she opened the newspaper and paged to the _'News of the World'_ section to catch up on the events she had missed over the past couple of days.

Engrossed in reading, she didn't even notice the passage of time and, before she knew it, Lynette was standing before her, freshly showered, holding a cup of tea out for her.

"Anything interesting?" Lynne asked.

"Yeah," Yoshika answered, "We're in the news."

She handed the newspaper to Lynne, opened to the page in question. A half-page article headed with a stock photo of the entire 501st, standing in front of a hanger at Capel-le-Fern. Also, four photographs of Charlotte, Gertrude, and Erica, as well as the MAGUS pilots — taken during their staged dogfight.

"Do you think Shirley has seen this yet?" Lynette wondered as she scanned over the page.

"I don't know," Yoshika replied, sipping her tea, "We'll have to show it to her in the morning."

As Lynne sat in the chair next to Yoshika's, bed reading the news article, Yoshika decided it was now or never. Collecting her nerve, she placed the teacup on her nightstand.

"Lynne-chan…can we talk for a minute?"

Lynette looked up, startled. "Eh?"

Yoshika had a serious look on her face, although she was wearing a soft smile. She patted the empty space next to her on the bed. "Can we…I wanted to talk to you about something."

Lynette's stomach turned queasily. Somehow, she knew this was it. But was she about to be confessed to or let down easily? She still wasn't sure. Mentally she tried to prepare herself for the worst. Rising from the chair, she sat down on the bed next to Yoshika.

Now that she had committed herself, Yoshika felt eerily calm. She made direct eye contact with Lynette and just allowed the words to flow out.

"I wanted to tell you how special today was for me. But the truth is, every single day since I first met you…every single day I've spent with you, has been special. You are the sweetest, the gentlest, the most beautiful person I have ever met — inside and out."

She looked up to gauge the effect of her words. Lynette was simply staring at her with a wide-eyed but unreadable expression. She swallowed hard and pressed on, determined to say her piece.

"What I mean to say is…I love you Lynne-chan. I love you and I want you to be my girlfriend. I promise to always cherish you and protect…"

She was cut off as Lynette began to cry. Her hands were held over her mouth and tears were spilling down her cheeks. Yoshika was taken aback for a moment, not quite sure how to interpret Lynne's reaction until she heard her words, slightly muffled by her hands.

"I'm so glad. I'm so glad," her eyes scrunched closed as she sobbed. "Thank you, God. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you so much."

She gasped for breath. It was safe. She could say it now. Yoshika had finally freed her from all of her doubt and fear. "I love you, Yoshika Miyafuji. I love you _so_ very much. I promise I will always take good care of you. I promise will always hold you precious. I…I…"

Yoshika leaned over and took the crying girl gently in her arms. She didn't even notice the tears falling down her own cheeks. They held each other tightly, allowing time for both of their emotions to settle.

When they finally moved they moved as one, pulling apart and resting their foreheads on each other, their arms still wrapped intimately around one another. Simply gazing into each others' eyes communicated their feelings more effectively than words ever could.

As one, their lips met in the softest, sweetest, most passionate kiss imaginable. After a long while their lips separated but otherwise they remained as they were. Again, their feelings and thoughts transmitted in their gazes.

As one, they came together for another kiss, only this one was deeper and much more intimate. Yoshika nipped at Lynne's bottom lip and slid her tongue in when Lynne parted her lips slightly. Yoshika, having previous experience, took the lead and Lynette gladly allowed it.

Eventually, Yoshika became bolder with her touches, sending shivers of desire throughout Lynne's body. She suppressed the impulse to tense up. Part of her mind told her she wasn't ready, but she was prepared to allow Yoshika to do as she pleased. She would do whatever she needed to do in order to keep Yoshika by her side forever.

However, Yoshika sensed her hesitation and eased off before she lost control herself. There was no need to rush. They had all the time in the world now. She eased them both down until they were lying on the bed next to each other. They had still not let go of one another.

Continuing to kiss and touch, intimately and lovingly rather than erotically, Lynette felt as if her soul was about to escape her body. She knew it wasn't a dream. Her dreams had never felt this wonderful.

"I love you, Yoshika," she whispered softly.

"So, it's Yoshika now, instead of Yoshika-chan?" the tiny Fuso maiden teased gently.

"W-well, in your culture, 'chan' is used with close friends. But when you become…intimate with someone, you just call them by their name. That's how it works, right?"

Delicate fingers softly caressed the Britannian girl's cheek.

"Yes, Lynne," Yoshika answered with a smile "That's how it works."

* * *

 ** _\- September 14, 1943  
\- RAF Mildenhall Shared Flight Facilities  
\- Abingdon Hall — 07:17 Hours_**

The Propaganda Squad was waiting in the entrance hall for their final two members to make their appearance. The plan was to eat breakfast together and go over any last-minute details before the main event. Even though Francesca, Mallory, and even Lt. Hughes were shuffling with impatience, Charlotte continued to chat with Fiske unconcernedly. The two girls still had twelve minutes and neither one was in the habit of being late.

Charlotte had been a quite worried about Yoshika and Lynette lately.

It had been obvious, to her at least, that the two cared for one another deeply. It had also been obvious that they had hit a bad bump in their rocky not-quite-courtship a couple of weeks earlier. Both girls had lost their exuberance. Yoshika's outgoing nature had been a bit subdued and Lynette had begun to withdraw from the group once more.

Something had changed yesterday. Right before they all left Capel-la-Ferne. They both seemed to be more themselves again, both with the squadron and with each other. After her conversation with Corporal Fiske last night, she had a feeling she knew what the catalyst was.

Charlotte liked both girls immensely and she really hoped they would find each other's hearts. They were good girls, and they deserved every bit of happiness they could get.

So it was no surprise when, looking up, she felt a wave of joy wash over her at the sight of Yoshika and Lynette approaching, walking side-by-side, chatting animatedly with one another, giggling. And _(she raised an eyebrow, this was new…)_ holding hands.

"Well! You girls are quite lively this morning," Charlotte teased, "Did something good happen?"

"G-good?" Yoshika yelped. "H-hai. It was…ummmm…we…we…we…" She looked at Lynette with an unreadable expression on her face.

"We had such a wonderful time yesterday," Lynne interjected breezily. "We had lunch. Oh! And Yoshika had her first milkshake." She looked upward in thought. "We went shopping. Right, Yoshika?"

"H-hai." Although looking rather embarrassed, she was wearing a broad smile. "I, umm, bought a…you know…book."

"Yes," Lynette said, letting go of Yoshika's hand and wrapping her arms around the smaller girl's shoulders, squeezing her tightly. "She bought this really old, rare book for her grandmother. Isn't she the most thoughtful girl?"

Charlotte was thoroughly enjoying the spectacle she was seeing. Yoshika, timid and stammering, while Lynette picked up the conversation and covered for her. It was as if they had switched roles. She wanted to laugh out loud but was afraid they might take it the wrong way.

Yoshika's face threatened to turn a color not found in nature. "Y-Yeah, so…breakfast, right? Let's go."

She clasped Lynne's hand once again and started to drag her towards the mess hall. Lynette looked over her shoulder at the others as she was being hauled off. She was wearing the brightest smile anyone had ever seen her give. "I guess we'll see you there," she said, giggling happily.

The five pilots just stood there for a moment, recovering from the gale-force storm of love that had just passed them by.

Finally, Mallory simply said, "Wow."

"Wow, indeed," Charlotte deadpanned.

— —

The first hour of the press conference was all about the MAGUS. The girls were seated in the VIP section. Up on the stage, the three pilots stood in front of their respective machines.

The MAGUS Units stood at roughly twelve feet tall. An electrostatic seam ran down the front of each unit, allowing the pilots access to the flight harness. In spite of its size and bulk, it was rather easy to control. The Grey Matter armor was surprisingly light and flexible.

R&D hadn't been able to replicate the Neuroi particle beam. Instead, a weapons rack, mounted across the back of the unit, held a variety of ranged weaponry. The propellers, mounted on the bottom third of the legs — similar to a Striker unit — were canted at an odd 17-degree angle, the upper housing wore a shroud or wind baffle.

Flash bulbs popped as the media eagerly snapped pictures of the MAGUS Units and the pilots. That all stopped as a uniformed man climbed the stairs on the left side of the stage and approached the podium.

Yoshika made a squeak of recognition. "Ano…that shady-looking guy is the one that left the party early with Commander Minna and Sakamoto-san," she whispered to Charlotte.

"That's General Maloney," Charlotte answered. "'Shady' definitely describes him."

Everyone quieted down as Maloney began to speak.

"Ladies and gentlemen, members of the press corps, thank you for coming out today. As you all know, we are here to announce the development and deployment of a new weapon that will give our troops the fighting edge they have been sorely lacking in this conflict."

He made a dramatic pause, allowing the audience time to process his statement.

"The Neuroi crossed the gulfs of space to invade our planet, using technology we simply couldn't match up against…until now."

He half-turned to indicate the MAGUS Units on the stage behind him.

"Our researchers have been able to adapt salvaged Neuroi technology and reverse-engineer it to create the ultimate fighting machine. Something that can stand up to the Neuroi's overwhelming advantage."

Charlotte frowned. " _Bullshit. He's lying. After a Core is destroyed, there's nothing left to salvage."_

She became more attentive to what Maloney was saying. Although she still hadn't figured out how the so-called 'Core Fragments' that powered the MAGUS were acquired, she knew instinctively and from experience that Maloney's statement about reverse-engineered technology was a complete load.

"Our only lines of defense so far have been the Witch Units stationed on the front lines. But they are not enough. All they have ever been able to do is slow down the enemy advances. We cannot rely on them to achieve a decisive victory. Witches may be more powerful than normal humans…stronger…but they still have human frailties. They can still weaken. They can still be hurt. They can still die. Ultimately they are no different, no better than we are."

Francesca gave Charlotte a puzzled look. "Shirley? Why does it sound like he hates us?"

Charlotte gave her a reassuring pat on the head. "I don't know, kiddo. He certainly isn't being very nice."

Right now, she didn't have a good answer. She focused on Maloney once more, recognizing the tone of a speech wrapping up.

"The MAGUS deployment with Karlsland's 117th Luftwaffe will be the precursor to a mass production effort, in order to equip our troops to meet this challenge head on and decisively put this war to an end. Thank you for your support."

There was applause, although obviously not as loud or as enthusiastic as Maloney would have liked. He frowned at the crowd's lukewarm response. As he walked off the stage he glared at the MAGUS pilots.

"You boys _better_ put on one hell of a show."

* * *

The staged demonstration had been going on for about 15 minutes. They had just completed two of the four scheduled engagements, with neither side able to claim an overwhelming victory, as was planned. This was basically a show of strength and talent to impress the crowds.

Francesca had been matched against Vince Mallory, Charlotte against Lieutenant Hughes and Yoshika against Bill Fiske.

Sparing a glance at the crowds below, Yoshika saw Lynette jumping up and down, screaming like a cheerleader. Gripped by an uncharacteristic impulse, she decided she was going to show off a bit.

She left herself open for Fiske to begin a strafing run. At the same instant he unleashed a salvo, she banked steeply upward and to the left, looping backwards and rotating on her primary flight axis. She ended up behind and slightly below his flight path. Adjusting her attitude slightly brought her up, directly behind him.

For his part, Fiske was rather impressed. " _Not bad, kid!"_ he thought. " _Want to get fancy, huh? Try this on for size."_

The maneuver wasn't in any book or manual. He had come up with it himself. There _was_ no book or manual for a MAGUS Unit. He and Vince and Lieutenant Hughes… _they_ were writing it as they went along. He flipped on his back and dove downwards.

As he anticipated, Yoshika matched his maneuver. He continued his downward trajectory and did a mental five-count. Abruptly, he cut his engines, spilled the rudders and restarted the engines so that he was now flying perpendicular to his former trajectory. It was an extremely difficult maneuver that had taken him weeks of practice to get right.

As he charged forward he reached into his weapons rack and pulled the HS.404 Auto-cannon. This puppy fired a 20mm shell — although currently, of course, it was a 20mm paintball. Flipping on his back once more, he fired.

However, in the space where his target should be was only empty air. Slightly stunned by his miscalculation, he frantically scanned the area, trying to locate his missing quarry. At the last instant, he realized she was directly above him, diving toward him at full speed. He dodged to the right and narrowly missed being nailed by her volley.

Fully expecting Yoshika to continue her dive, he made ready to perform an Immelmann maneuver, to end up on her tail. He stared in disbelief as the young Fuso girl cut her engines, spilled her rudders and restarted…flawlessly imitating his earlier maneuver. _His_ maneuver. _"Impossible!"_ was all he could think, as he was once more forced on the defensive.

He opened his throttles full-on, with Yoshika hot on his tail. With his attention focused on his pursuer, he didn't see what suddenly manifested directly in front of him. He was running full tilt when he pancaked into Yoshika's shield. The MAGUS rang like a gong with the impact, and Fiske's head did the same.

He quickly regained his senses only to find himself unable to move, trapped against the young Witch's shield as she willed it to accelerate towards her. Before he could react at all he was painted head to toe with dummy rounds.

The headset crackled in his ear. "Fiske-san, are you all right?"

He couldn't help but smile, hearing the genuine concern evident in the girl's voice. "I'm fine Sergeant. Thanks." He answered. "I've gotta say, that was some pretty slick maneuvering. I'm impressed."

As he glanced down at the crowd, he happened to spot Lynette clapping like mad and gazing directly at Yoshika, wearing an expression of complete adoration.

"Hmmm. It is quite obvious, Miss Scarlet, that I am not the only one who is impressed."

"Why, Ashley Wilkes," Yoshika answered demurely in an affected southern Liberion accent. "Ah am quite certain that ah have no idea what you are talking about."

" _Pegged her for a movie buff,"_ Fiske thought with a laugh. " _I'm glad we can talk normally now."_ He watched as Yoshika did a three-quarter barrel and zipped to the far side of the arena.

" _You really are something else, Sergeant."_ He shook his head in admiration. " _I'm sure everyone is expecting great things from you."_ With that, he gunned his suit's engines and flew back to his side of the arena to ready himself for the next round.


	7. Myriad Connections

****A/N:**** Welcome back. Please enjoy this chapter. ** **  
****

"Strike Witches hajimeru yo!"

 **Myriad Connections**

* * *

 ** _-_ _September 14, 1943_ _  
-_ _RAF Mildenhall Festival Grounds_**

There was a very good reason General Maloney's speech casting aspersions on Witches and Witch-centric military units didn't go over well with this crowd.

Ever since the fall of Gallia, London and much of the surrounding countryside had been under almost constant bombardment. The Neuroi seemed determined to take full advantage of the momentum they had gained in the Mediterranean Theatre and on the Belgian front. The citizenry were well aware of the bravery and strength of the courageous girls who put themselves in harm's way in order to protect those who could not protect themselves.

Also, a great many of those in attendance were refugees…survivors of the razing of Cardiff and _'Operation: Spearhead'_ only 22 months earlier. The only reason they _were_ **alive** was because of the 501st Joint Fighter Wing.

— —

 _Twenty-two months earlier, the 501st had famously been under the command of outspoken, larger-than-life Colonel Hanna Murphy, an indomitable force of nature who was often spoken of with the same sense of awe as MacArthur or Rommel._

 _At the age of 25, Hanna was well past the retirement age of most Witches. However, she was one of those rare specimens whose powers did not wane significantly in adulthood. Most who knew her attributed that to sheer cussedness._

 _It was during her tenure that the 501st gained wide-spread notoriety, acting as the first line of defense against the Gallian-based Neuroi aggression on London and its environs. They got the dirty jobs done — although not without cost._

 _At this point in the war, the 501st had a higher-than-normal rate of personnel rotation. This latest batch of newcomers was proving to be quite promising. Hanna's newly assigned second-in-command, Major Minna Dietlinde-Wilcke, was a wonder. Initially, the Colonel had been a bit concerned about the girl's age but soon understood that those fears were unfounded._

 _The youngest ranking field officer in the theater, Minna was reliable and as no-nonsense as they come while on the clock. Off-duty though, she was accessible, easy-going and sported a surprisingly wicked sense of humor. She was capable of being on friendly terms with her pilots without undermining her own authority. Not an easy juggling act for some._

 _Major Wilcke wasn't the only new face in the 501st. There was also Captain Sakamoto Mio, Lieutenant Takei Junko — a long-time friend of Captain Sakamoto — and tag-along transfer Elizabeth Beurling, the kukri-wielding troublemaker who would eventually be transferred to the Suomus IVAS, the so-called "Suomus Misfit Squad"._

 _On November 11th, 1941, while the bulk of the Allied military's Europa-based forces were deployed against escalating enemy action along the Karlsland-Orussian border, the 501st JFW —_ Murphy's Marauders _as they were called at the time — were the only battle-capable Witch Unit in the vicinity when the Neuroi launched a sneak attack along Britannia's under-protected southwestern coast._

 _Caught by the short hairs, personnel stretched thin and unable to mount an appropriate response, Central Command quickly determined that Cardiff would simply have to fall._

 _Colonel Murphy was instructed to take her squadron and arrest any Neuroi advance until military and civil rescue teams could evacuate the citizenry. Once on the scene, Murphy ascertained that their job was going to be a lot tougher than simply holding off multiple waves of attacking ships._

 _Neuroi hunter drones and small attack craft, even in these numbers, were manageable. The problem was the presence of three massive Neuroi craft that the military had classified "Dreadnoughts". Distinctive in their design, the Dreadnoughts were never used in battle. They were the vanguard that established Neuroi Hives in captured territory._

 _Once complete, the Hive would meld with the land and begin to emit a slowly spreading miasma that would ultimately kill everything it touched and convert the mass into Grey Matter._

 _Once complete, the Hive would be almost impossible to kill._

 _Hanna knew they couldn't allow that to happen. Even if it cost each and every one of them their lives, they had to stop this Hive from being established in Cardiff. Out-numbered, under-supported and over-matched, the 501st engaged the enemy._

 _Assigning her heavy hitters to systematically eliminate the three Dreadnoughts, Hanna entrusted the defense of the line to her_ _two cage fighters, Sergeants Beurling and Barkhorn. She assigned their new young corporal, Charlotte Yeager, the task of leading three other squad members to provide protection to the evac teams and rescue crews clearing the battle zone._

 _It was a long, hard-fought and hard-won battle. The girls had used almost every bit of magic they possessed but, in the end, they triumphed. The Dreadnoughts had been destroyed and the attacking waves had either been obliterated or scattered and in retreat._

 _Cardiff had been leveled and would need to be completely rebuilt, but the mission itself had been a success, with civilian casualties limited to only those who had died in the initial wave. Murphy's Marauders, however, lost two of their own…brand-new recruit Private Lisette Harshaw, and their commander, Colonel Hanna Murphy._

 _The final Dreadnaught had put up one hell of a fight. Hanna's attention was diverted momentarily as she tried to coordinate a synchronous attack on the monolithic alien ship. Her body was neatly bisected by a stray Neuroi particle beam. As she fell from the sky, with the odd sensation of seeing the lower part of her body floating above her, she knew she was already dead. It just hadn't caught up to her yet. Calmly, she keyed her mike and spoke her final words._

 _"The squadron's yours now Minna. Take good care of them. I'm counting on you."_

 _Minna took those words to heart. She blocked off the grief she felt at her mentor's passing and carried through with the rest of the mission. After eliminating the final threat to the city, she and the rest of the squadron, even though exhausted and mostly powerless, rushed to assist in the civilian relocation effort. Cardiff had been destroyed, but the people were still alive and that was what mattered most._

 _Six days later, during a special ceremony, the 501st Joint Fighter Wing was lauded for its heroic action. Colonel Hanna Murphy was posthumously assigned the rank of General and awarded the Allied Forces Medal of Special Commendation. The unit designation **Murphy's Marauders** was retired with honor._

 _During the same ceremony, acting upon Colonel Murphy's written recommendation, Major Minna-Dietlinde Wilcke was promoted to Colonel and formally given command of a newly re-minted 501st Joint Fighter Wing — unit designation **Strike Witches**._

 _At barely 17 years of age, Minna Wilcke became the youngest wing commander in military history._

— —

The relocated former citizens of Cardiff — indeed everyone in Britannia — would never forget the debt they owed the 501st. After the combat demo, the girls were warmly received by the crowd. Charlotte had a cluster of male admirers flocking around her, begging for a handshake or a picture. Yoshika, Lynette and Francesca sat at a folding card table, greeting guests and signing autographs.

Many of the older people simply wanted to express their gratitude to the girls for their bravery and service. But most of the younger adults and kids wanted the autograph of a war hero. It didn't really matter that none of the three at the table had been part of the Cardiff liberation. Just the fact that they were members of the Strike Witches was enough. As far as these people were concerned, they were the best of the best. Hometown heroes.

After about 90 minutes of graciously signing press-kit photos and shaking hands, the little Fuso maiden was beginning to get a bit sleepy. Stepping away from the table to stretch her limbs, she noticed a cute younger girl, maybe about 12 or 13 years old, standing off to the side of the crowd staring intently at Lynne.

Yoshika idly observed her for a while. The tiny blonde started towards the table, then stopped and turned around. After seeing this behavior repeated three times and noticing the clenched fists and look of determination on her face, Yoshika decided the small girl was working up the courage to talk to Lynette.

The scrutiny must have been noticed, for the girl gave a guilty start, glanced at Yoshika and then resolutely walked up to the table.

"Um. Excuse me. Sergeant?"

Lynne turned to the source of the voice.

"You are Lady Lynette Bishop of Glys, are you not?"

Lynne hesitated slightly. "Yes."

"I thought so. I've seen you before, at formal functions and such. Our fathers work together on the Royal Council." The girl paused momentarily, as if deciding how to proceed. "Well, i-i-it's just that, I-I really admire you."

Digging a toe in the dirt, she cast her glance downward, with a full flush on her cheeks.

"Anyway, I started seeing you in the newspaper, you know, in the Strike Witches and all. And I just…I just think you're so **_amazing_**. You could easily avoid being involved in all this. You could live in privilege, but you don't. You **_use_** you power to help people. You **_do_** something."

Her voice became firmer with conviction. Finally meeting Lynette's gaze, the Britannian ace could see younger girl's eyes shining brightly.

"My father says a proper lady shouldn't concern herself with war and such things. But he's **_wrong_**! I just _know_ it!"

Suddenly the shy youngster moved forward and took one of Lynne's hands in both of her own.

"I want to use my power to help people, as well. I want to become a Witch, just like you," the girl finished, slightly out of breath. "You are my _hero_ Lady Lynette."

"Well, I…" Lynne's first instinct was to shy away, but she suppressed that impulse. This girl who looked up to her, who reminded her of herself at that age, deserved a strong role model. The honey-blonde beauty decided that she needed to live up to this girl's expectations. "What is your name?"

"Oh. I'm Abigail. Abigail Wainwright. Abby. It is very nice to formally meet you, Lady Lynette."

"Well, Abby, first of all I'm not "Lady Lynette" when I wear this uniform. I'm simply Master-Sergeant Bishop. But please call me Lynne," she explained with a gentle smile.

"I don't really think of myself as heroic. I always try my best, but I wouldn't be able to do anything without my squad mates and my friends there to back me up."

"Still…" Abigail replied, "…to be able to find the courage to do it in the first place…"

"Everyone has different reasons for why they fight, Abby. Some do it for duty, some for honor, some for glory." While she spoke, she saw Yoshika returning and her soft smile suddenly became radiant. "And sometimes, if you are very lucky, you get to fight to protect someone who is precious to you." Reaching out, her hand found that of the Fuso girl and clasped it tightly. "Someone who fills you with more courage and hope and love than you could ever believe possible."

It was obvious to Abigail that the Master-Sergeant's words were now meant for the tiny chestnut-haired girl who had joined her.

"Someone you want to cherish and keep safe so they can stay by your side forever," Yoshika replied, also caught up in the same rush of emotion, the same removal from reality.

"Forever...?" breathed Lynne.

"Forever…" Yoshika whispered back.

They could see only each other. The first thing Lynne noticed when she became fully aware again was Abigail staring at them intently, hands clasped together under her chin, eyes wet with tears. Her first thought was that they had somehow upset the younger girl, perhaps embarrassing her with their outward display of affection.

"I'm so sorry, Abigail. That was very rude of us. Please don't be upset."

"No. No. Not at all." Abby rushed to assure her. "It's just…" She giggled cutely. "It's just that you made my insides melt." She sighed and smiled. "You two really love each other a lot, don't you?"

"Yes. We really do," Lynne answered happily, still holding Yoshika's hand tightly.

At first, Lynette thought that she would be shy about showing Yoshika affection in public. But that wasn't the case at all. In fact, the opposite was true. It made her feel empowered.

"We were about to have lunch. Please come join us," Yoshika offered the newcomer kindly.

"Yes, please do." Lynne agreed happily.

"Really?" the tiny blonde yelped. When Lynne nodded yes, she turned to face Yoshika and performed a Fuso bow. "Thank you. I'm Abigail Wainwright. You can call me Abby. It's nice to meet you."

Yoshika returned the greeting with a matching bow. "Abby-chan, hajimemashite. Miyafuji Yoshika desu." * _It's nice to meet you, Abby-chan. I'm Yoshika Miyafuji.*_

As the Fuso maiden followed Lynne and Abby out into the fairgrounds, she was beaming with pride. Listening to Abigail relate her feelings to the person she admired made Yoshika happy. She thought it was important that Lynette hear from an outside party just how wonderful and special she really was. Someday Lynette would even be able to see for _herself_ just how wonderful and special she was. Yoshika was determined of that.

Although, really, Lynne had already begun to undergo a transformation on her own. There was no doubt in Yoshika's mind that if Lynette hadn't acted — if yesterday hadn't happened — she would have continued to doubt and fret and second-guess her feelings until it was too late.

The Fuso ace had known from the day they had met that there was more to the bashful Britannian than was evident from appearance. The aspiring healer had become adept at reading people at a very young age. Both her mother and grandmother held great store in understanding a patient's personality as part of determining their method of treatment.

Yoshika, with her bubbly disposition, had a way of making people feel at ease around her. She had the same effect on Lynne as she had on everyone else, and whenever Lynne felt at ease, her true personality had shown through. It didn't take long for Yoshika to deduce that _something_ had happened in Lynne's past that led to her obvious personality quirks.

She, quite honestly, hadn't been prepared yesterday upon accidentally discovering just how dark that something in her past had been. Initially, after she confessed her feelings, in the back of her mind, she kept thinking about when and how to address Lynn's emotional problems. She was worried for her love and didn't want her past to disturb the future they could make for themselves.

But she was quickly finding out that Lynette was breaking out of her mental prison on her own initiative. _"Just knowing her love for me is returned as deeply is giving her the strength to become herself again,"_ Yoshika thought gratefully. _"I feel stronger too."_

"Like I found a part of myself that I didn't even know was missing," she muttered aloud.

The two girls in front of her turned to look inquisitively.

"What was that, Yoshika?" Lynne asked. "I couldn't hear you."

"Hmm? Oh, I said I hope they have a Fuso food stall. I'm dying for Takoyaki."

"Takoyaki?" Abigail looked at Lynette inquisitively.

"Grilled octopus balls." Lynne smiled. "They're much better than they sound. If you try them, just think stuffed mushrooms, breaded and fried. There's this creamy…stuff inside. It's really delicious. Yoshika has made them for the whole squadron a few times."

Alas, there were no Fuso food stalls to be found. Yoshika had to content herself with a selection of local fare. Abigail still seemed slightly nervous, so Lynette quickly set her at ease by engaging her in lighthearted conversation as they ate.

"So, Abby, what is your skill set?"

"I have a heightened spatial awareness. Also limited precognition, which is 99% accurate up to a 10 minute window," she frowned slightly, "After that it bottoms out rapidly to 48% after an hour. But…" she brightened up, "…my electives instructor said I could bring those numbers up with proper training."

"Cool," Yoshika interjected. "Our commanding officer has enhanced spatial sense as well. Combine that with precognition — even limited — and you would be an awesome tactical officer."

Abigail gave an excited gasp. "Really? You really think I could be useful?"

Lynne chuckled at the girl's exuberance. Reaching across the table, she ruffled the youngster's hair. "Absolutely," she replied happily.

"Hey, you guys," a familiar voice called out.

Charlotte approached their table juggling two huge plates laden with just about everything the festival had to offer, a long loaf of Gallic bread tucked under one arm. Francesca was picking up the rear hauling two six-packs of soda-pop for her, the girls and Vince, and a quarter-keg of Guinness Dark for the adults.

Unburdening herself on the picnic table, Charlotte sat down heavily. "Jeez! Those boys sure sure are demanding. Pose _this_ way, pose _that_ way, can you raise your _butt_ any higher, blah blah blah," she grumped loudly.

Francesca hugged her from the back. "You loved every minute of it," she chortled happily.

Looking across the table with her chin resting on Charlotte's shoulder, the twin-tailed pixie spied the addition to the group. "So who's the new blood?" she asked with a smirk.

"This is a fan — and potential Witch — Abby Wainwright," Lynne informed. "Abby, this is our friend and squadmate, Francesca Lucchini." Francesca gave her a silly grin and waved. "And this boisterous redhead is our friend and mission commander, Captain Charlotte Yeager."

Charlotte reached across the table and gave the tiny blonde a hearty Liberion-style handshake. "Pleased t' meet you Abby."

Abigail stared back at her wide-eyed. "Y-you're Glamorous Shirley!"

"Correct on both counts," Charlotte responded. "If you want an autograph, though, I'm sorry but you'll have to wait a little while. I've lost all feeling in my hand." She slumped over on the table.

"M'hungry." Charlotte fake-pouted, but Francesca wasn't about to be baited. "Well, it's a good thing you have two platefuls of food right in front of you, isn't it?" the diminutive Romagnan playfully scolded the older girl.

Charlotte smiled and dug in. Between mouthfuls she peppered the air with questions. She was obviously in one of her more hyper moods. Generally, the buxom ace, although light-hearted and jovial, gave off an air of level-headedness. Occasionally though, if she were tired or excited, her demeanor bore a very strong resemblance to Francesca's, rapid-fire speech pattern and limited attention span included.

"So, the guys aren't back yet?" Charlotte observed. "I wonder what's keeping them."

"That General Maloney person came and got them when they were coming down off the stage," Yoshika told her. Her brow furrowed slightly. "I heard something about 'review your performance'…"

Charlotte frowned, as well. "What the hell could that pompous windbag have to bitch at them about that would take over an hour?" She looked around for her partner. "Yo, Lucchini! Go try to find those yahoos for me, will ya? Or at least find out what happened to them?"

The petite girls shout of "Roger!" was already fading as she dashed into the crowds. She returned immediately with an embarrassed expression. "Umm, where should I look?"

Charlotte turned toward Yoshika.

"Aré?" Yoshika questioned. "Oh, right. They went over toward the hangers on the west side of the base."

With another "Roger!" Francesca was off once again, this time in the right direction.

 **"And stay out of trouble!"** Charlotte yelled after her.

Yoshika felt slightly troubled as she watched Francesca disappear into the crowd. General Maloney gave her the creeps. She got such a strange vibe around him. Nothing he said or did seemed genuine or sincere.

And when he smiled it made her skin crawl.

" _I hope they're okay,"_ Yoshika thought to herself.

* * *

"I cannot **_believe_** you allowed that child to make you look like such a fool! I don't think you are taking this seriously," General Maloney grumped as he paced in front of the MAGUS pilots.

Bill Fiske frowned. "With all due respect, General, that 'child' is an experienced combat pilot. A _very_ _capable_ combat pilot. I wasn't holding anything back and neither was she."

"Besides…" he continued, "…we were supposed to be putting on a show to highlight **_all_** of our strengths, not just your lab monkeys."

Maloney stopped pacing directly in front of Fiske and leaned in close, attempting to give an intimidating glare. Fiske returned the gaze calmly and undaunted. This infuriated Maloney all the more. His face was almost purple with the anger and frustration that constantly boiled inside of him coming to a head. He took a deep breath, preparing to launch some choice invective at Fiske.

However, before he could yell a single word, the door in the rear of the bay opened and Brigadier Briggs entered. He was alone. Unlike Maloney, Briggs preferred not to travel with an entourage. Ignoring the position Maloney was in with Fiske, he strode up to the three pilots with a broad smile.

"Wonderful show, gentlemen! Well done." He shook hands with each man in turn, brushing past Maloney as if he weren't even there.

"So, tell me lads, are those gadgets as much fun to fly as it looks?"

The brigadier's easygoing manner caused Vince to momentarily forget he was talking to a superior officer. "Fun doesn't _begin_ ta describe it," he answered with all the enthusiasm and bluster of youth. "It's th' most incredible feelin' ever. It's like you become one with your machine and the sky **belongs** to you. Like it's home." His eyes were shining brightly. "It's like you can do **anything**." He became self-conscious, suddenly realizing to whom he was speaking. "Uhhh…sir," he finished lamely.

"It's okay, son. I get where you're coming from." The older man grinned jovially. "I felt 'as one' with my old Sopwith, so I can only imagine."

He clapped Mallory on the shoulder. "Life's an adventure, son," he said in a low voice, intended for only the young pilot to hear. "You're meant to enjoy every minute of it."

"So, Mr. Fiske?" Briggs asked, turning toward the man he had addressed. "What do you make of the 501st's young Fuso pilot? Quite the little spitfire, isn't she?"

"And then some," Fiske agreed. "What little I've seen tells me she has the chops, all right."

"We've got a stack of reports about her back at OOC," the brigadier chuckled. "She once blew up a Neuroi by force-feeding its particle beam back down its own throat."

Finally he turned to address Lieutenant Hughes. "Nice job with your unit, Lieutenant!" Briggs extended his hand. "Working with experimental aircraft is always a dicey situation, and this seems about as experimental as it gets, no?"

"Just so, Brigadier," Hughes answered, shaking the proffered hand. "But these'r good lads I'm workin' with. Any praise ya have ta give is ta their credit, rather than m'own."

"Nonsense, lieutenant. I've read your records," Briggs stated firmly. "You're being needlessly modest. I'm sure Mr. Fiske and Mr. Mallory would be the first to say it wouldn't be the same unit without you leading it." He glanced over at the two. "Am I right, boys?"

"Absolutely correct, sir." Fiske stated sincerely.

"That's right, sir." Mallory added.

"Well, I thank ya, sir." Hughes concluded. He had the distinct impression that the brigadier was sizing each of them up, personality-wise, and that each of them had passed muster.

Briggs finally turned to acknowledge the presence of General Maloney. "Trevor. I was just looking for you. You're free right now, correct?" It wasn't phrased as a question. Maloney appeared as if he had a lot more to say to his erstwhile pilots, but whatever it was, he kept it to himself.

"Of course, Douglas." His eyes narrowed slightly. "You gentlemen are dismissed."

The pilots didn't need to be told twice. They saluted their superiors and headed for the door, with Mallory in the lead.

Once outside the darkened hanger, the bright sunshine and fresh air blew away any pall cast by all the drama and animosity in the hanger.

Vince broke the silence. "That was deeply uncomfortable."

"Yeah," Fiske agreed. "Did you see the tension between those two? I thought I was going to see two old guys beating the crap out of each other for a second there."

"Ha!" Hughes answered seriously. "Maloney would 'na have th' balls fer it. He's nothin' but a mincing ponce. A 'Commissioned in the Classroom' sort. Before the Neuroi showed up, he was a desk-jockey Sergeant-Major in the front office." His brow furrowed in thought. "Y'know, come ta think on it, I canna ken how he wormed his way into Central Command. His background does na' call fer it."

"Getting off-point here," Fiske interrupted. "What I mean is…doesn't it seem like, I dunno…there's something going on behind the scenes we are totally unaware of?"

He gave his lieutenant a serious look. "So many things don't add up. Think about it. Maloney had his nose in every single aspect of the program, but beyond him, I don't recall seeing another ranking officer at the CCRC the entire two months we were there."

Fiske's random thoughts began to solidify. "Everybody in R&D has been pretty tight-lipped about the tech. Uncharacteristically so. They spout the same 'reverse-engineered' garbage that Maloney was trying to peddle to the crowd earlier." He fixed the lieutenant with his gaze. "All I know is that the goddamned 'battery' that runs my suit is a piece of something that's trying to kill me on a regular basis."

He then turned to the youngest of them. "I agree with you in one sense, Vince, they are one sweet ride. But I get the creeps every time I get into the damn thing. I simply can't enjoy it as you seem to. And we've never even been in live combat against the actual enemy. Only simulated Neuroi drones. So, yeah…" he concluded, "…I've got some issues."

* * *

A familiar voice rang out and the three spun around to the source of it. Francesca came screeching to a halt in front of them. " _There_ you guys are! We were getting worried. Shirley sent me out to find you."

"We just had a very through de-briefing is all," Bill commented wryly.

"Well, c'mon back to our table. Shirley said she has some Guinness pints waiting for you and that you'd probably need one after dealing with General Windbag."

"Possibly two or three," Lieutenant Hughes stated. "William, yer redheaded friend is an angel, she is."

Together they headed back to the picnic site. Francesca sidled up to Vince. "So, that boy you were talking to earlier…I know what booth he _woorrrks_ in." she said in a sing-song voice.

Vince tried to ignore her.

"I could _tellll_ you if you _waaant_ me to."

"I ain't got a clue as to what yer sayin', missy." Vince retorted. He hoped that would be the end of it, but unfortunately for him, Francesca was delighted to find a new target to tease.

"Sweater-vest boy? Wavy brown hair? Looks like he has 'Oxford' written all over him?"

Vince struggled for a clever retort, but all that came out was, "Shut up!"

"You _waaaant_ me to _tellll_ you."

"Shut up!"

"Tell you where he's _worrrking_."

"Shut up!"

" _Yesss_ you _doooo_."

" _ **Please**_ shut up."

"Heeheehee."

"Please?"

* * *

It ended up being a wonderful day. There was nothing else scheduled for the group until the following evening, when they would board the _USS Manchester_ for a short cruise to their next stop, in Amsterdam. They ended up designating the two picnic tables they occupied as 'base camp' and, at any given time, you would find some of them there while the others wandered about.

Late afternoon found them all back together, with the exception of Francesca and Vince. Bill Fiske was sitting at the table with Yoshika, Lynette and Abby polishing off a huge slab of chocolate cake.

"I'm surprised that you don't have a background in aviation," Bill said to Yoshika between mouthfuls. "You're an excellent pilot. You even knew a move that I thought I had made up on my own."

"Aré?" Yoshika gave him a puzzled look. "Oh! You mean that vector-change thingy? No, I've never done that before. I just saw what you did and copied it."

Bill gave her a blank stare for an instant, remembering the first three times he had attempted it, almost planting himself into the ground, then shook his head in wonderment. "Amazing."

"Anyway," he continued, "that was a pretty slick trick you pulled off with your shield. I don't think I've ever seen a Witch use her shield in quite that fashion."

Yoshika rubbed the back of her head in embarrassment. "Ano…I may have been showing off just a little bit," she admitted, giving Lynette a sidelong glance.

Lynne squealed in happiness at the statement. "Really? Were you trying to impress me?"

Yoshika nodded a yes and Lynne threw her arms around the tiny brunette in a crushing hug. Nuzzling her cheek she whispered softly, "You don't really need to. You've already left a lasting impression on me."

Abby watched the exchange from across the table with star-filled eyes. "They are _soooo_ adorable," she sighed.

"Oh sure," Charlotte smirked, rolling her eyes skyward. "You get to see the good stuff. You didn't have to sit through four and a half months of watching them pine over each other, miserable as hell."

"Where did the youngsters get off to?" Lieutenant Hughes wondered. "We ought to get sorted out pretty soon."

"I'm not sure," Charlotte answered. "I saw Lucchini dragging Vince off somewhere about an hour ago."

Almost as soon as her name was spoken, Francesca emerged from the crowd, heading back to the group although she was alone. "We thought Vincent was with ya, lass. What happened?"

The little ace cocked her head and gave the lieutenant an odd grin. "He's become fascinated with one of the local attractions. He said he'll catch up to us later." She then bounced over to the other side of the table and sat on the bench next to Shirley, still wearing a sly grin.

Charlotte looked sidelong at her and raised an eyebrow. "I know that look. What did you do?"

"My good deed for the day," Francesca answered. "Cake, please!"

Charlotte cut a large slice and placed the plate in front of the tiny Romagnan, who immediately began to happily munch on the chocolate confection, surveying the scene with contentment. Surrounded by her friends, two of whom were now a very happy couple, making a new friend and then being able to do something to make _him_ happy. And Shirley was here.

Yep. All in all, it was a pretty spiffy day.


	8. Amsterdam on Five Dollars a Day: Part 1

****A/N:**** Welcome back. Please enjoy this chapter. ** **  
****

"Strike Witches hajimeru yo!"

 **Amsterdam on Five Dollars a Day (part 1)**

* * *

 **- _September 17, 1943  
_ _\- USS Manchester — Location: North Sea_**

The commander of the Liberion carrier _USS Manchester_ had greeted the team on boarding. A greeting that was necessarily brief. Captain Lawrence was being polite and observing protocol, but he honestly had a dozen things to do before the ship left port. After welcoming the troupe onboard, he excused himself and passed them off to his Executive Officer.

 _Manchester's_ XO was an easygoing fellow by the name of Lieutenant Kellogg. He proved to be a gracious host and gave the team an extensive tour of the ship's facilities — the locations of the mess hall and sickbay and finally brought them to their billets. Pulling out his clipboard, he addressed each squad member one at a time.

"Captain Yeager, you're in the A-3 officer's suite. That's at the end of this corridor, make a left and it's three doors up on the starboard." Charlotte nodded an affirmative.

"Lieutenant Hughes you're in the A-4 officer's suite directly across the hall from Captain Yeager." He gestured with his free hand.

"Corporal Fiske and Pilot Mallory, you are in B-10, one deck below, aft port. Sergeant Miyafuji, Sergeant Bishop and Ensign Lucchini, you are in C-3, two decks below, fore starboard." He looked around at his audience. "Got all that?"

Lynne gave Yoshika a troubled look, to which Yoshika answered her unspoken question. "Two floors down, towards the front of the boat, on the right," she whispered to her companion.

"Ship, not boat," Lieutenant Kellogg whispered teasingly, loudly enough for all to hear. Yoshika blushed bright red in embarrassment and soon they were all laughing.

"Pretty easy, really. It's like a big 3-D grid," he assured them. "You'll get the hang of it quick enough." He tucked his clipboard under his arm and clapped his hands together. "Listen, why don't you guys stow your gear and meet me in the wardroom in, say, thirty minutes. We'll go over the itinerary."

After Lieutenant Kellogg left, everyone picked up their gear and started heading towards their assigned cabins. Francisca was about to follow the other two girls when she heard Shirley calling her over. "Tell them to go on ahead. I want you to come to my cabin first. I want to check out a hunch."

As Charlotte suspected, the officer's suite was huge. Two bunks, a writing desk, an actual chair and was that a mini-fridge? She pulled a bottle of beer from the chest and sat down at the table happily. "I had a feeling VIP would be like this. Plenty of room." She looked at Francisca conspiratorially. "So whaddya say you bunk here with me tonight and we give those two lovebirds some much-needed privacy?"

Francisca's fang gleamed as she grinned. "That's a roger!"

They all met back at the wardroom for coffee and/or tea. The Lieutenant actually had hot chocolate, which he happily provided for Yoshika and Francesca. They sat down around a large common table, the XO handing Charlotte a thick packet of papers. "Here are your timetables and official documents. Everything should be in order. I checked it thoroughly."

Charlotte accepted them gratefully. "Thanks for the help, Lieutenant. It is much appreciated."

"Not at all ma'am," Kellogg answered happily. "My pleasure."

He turned to the rest of the group. "We've stowed your Striker Units and those suits of armor down in Hanger Two, aft deck. You are welcome and encouraged to go below and make sure everything is battened down properly. If you need any help, ask any of the deck hands down there."

He drew an imaginary line on the table with his finger. "The trip generally takes from 12 to 14 hours, depending on the currents and the weather. That being said, we expect to be hitting some rough seas around midnight. There's a cold front coming down from the Nordic regions and we're going to catch the tail end of it. Nothing to worry about," he assured the group. "Although, if you're not used to that sort of thing, you may want to eat a light supper."

Lynette already felt queasy. She wasn't looking forward to tonight.

As it turned out, _Manchester_ was a little early for the tail-end of the storm and ended up giving a slightly rougher ride than advertised. Along with the massive swells, there was lightning and torrential rain. The squad members handled the situation in various ways…

 **- _Charlotte's cabin  
\- 01:30 Hours_**

Lightning flashed and the ship rolled with the swelling sea.

"C'mon Shirley, one more hand." Francisca pleaded, bouncing nervously on her crossed legs. "Pleeease?" She held the deck of pinochle cards up towards Charlotte as a holy offering.

"No, I said. Let's go to bed, for chrissake!" Charlotte rubbed her forehead in irritation. She didn't mean to be short with Francisca but she had some pressing matters taking up her attention. Matters that weren't on the table when she planned this 'sleepover.'

"What's up with you anyway?" she asked the diminutive Romagnan. "It's one thirty in the morning. Did you find where I hid those damned M&M's or something?"

When she saw Francisca turn away with a guilty look she groaned inwardly.

" _My own fault. I shouldn't have hidden them. I should have flushed them down the head."_

 **-** _**Vince Mallory and Bill Fiske's cabin  
\- 01:30 Hours**_

A loud peal of thunder accompanied the sudden back-lurch of the ship and Vince cried out in agony.

"Aw, damn, Bill. Please tell me ah'm gonna die at least?" Vince groaned out. "Anythin's better than havin' ma damn stomach fixin' ta crawl outta my throat."

Bill gave him a sympathetic look. "Sorry, kid. Wish I could help. Although," he couldn't help but add, "you should have gone a little easy on those desserts. The Exec _did_ warn you."

Vince turned over in his bunk. "Yeah, well, I couldn't let Lucchini, win could I?"

Bill rolled his eyes skyward. "It was a losing proposition, ya dope. I would imagine that girl has the metabolism of a Tasmanian Devil." He grinned. "Face it. You were finished before you started."

When he failed to hear a comeback or retort, Bill knew his young friend was seriously not feeling well. Sighing, he got up and walked over to his rucksack. He pulled out his kit and took two pills from a brown prescription bottle. Moving to the sink, he drew a cup of water and went over to Vince's bunk.

"Here," he said, handing Vince the pills and motioning to him with the cup. "Take these."

Vince accepted them with a puzzled look. "What're these?"

"Dramamine." Bill answered. " copped a few from sickbay earlier. Y'know, just in case."

Vince swallowed the pills. Bill tossed the cup in the trash, put away his kit and got into his bunk. After he was settled and ready to go to sleep he looked over his shoulder at the younger pilot. "Feeling any better?"

"A little bit, yeah," Vince answered gratefully. "Thanks."

Bill grunted his acknowledgment. The cabin was silent for a few minutes but the silence was broken when Vince spoke up again.

"Say, Bill…" Vince began, with a serious voice.

"Yeah?" Bill questioned sleepily.

"Well… you and the lieutenant…you're always looking out for me, keeping me from messing up, making sure I've got my shit together." He sighed lightly. "I just…I just want you to know how much I appreciate it. It really, really means a lot to me, y'know?"

"Yeah, yeah." Bill answered gruffly. "What are we supposed ta do?" With Bill's back turned to him, the young southerner couldn't see the gratified smile on his senior's face.

"So go to sleep already, huh? And if you do puke, try to aim for the trash can."

"Do m' best." Vince answered happily.

 **-** _**Lieutenant Hughes cabin  
\- 01:30 Hours**_

"ZZZZZzzzzzzzzZZZZZZzzzzzzzz 'hulmp' zzz zzzz ZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzz."

 **-** _**Lynette and Yoshika's cabin  
\- 01:30 Hours**_

"I feel so ill," Lynette moaned. Almost as soon as she said the words, the cabin lit up with another lightning stroke and the driving of the rain intensified. The ship listed again in the choppy seas.

"Ulp." She covered her mouth with her hands in an effort to keep from heaving. She looked at Yoshika with misery etched on her features. "You said it took you over seventeen _days_ to sail from Fuso to Britannia. How could you possibly stand it?"

Yoshika scooted closer to Lynette on the bunk they shared (she thanked Charlotte again in her mind for shuffling the sleeping arrangements) and took the distressed girl in her arms, stroking her hair gently, trying to comfort her.

"The waters don't get this rough on the open seas. The North Sea is landlocked on three sides, so it can generate some very powerful storms," the little Fuso scholar answered her seriously.

In spite of her discomfort, Lynette couldn't help but laugh. "Is there anything you don't know?"

Yoshika's face flushed in embarrassment. "Umm…I mean…yeah! There's…there's **lots** of stuff I don't know. I…I…I'm just really good at remembering things I read or hear."

Her obvious discomfort of the subject made Lynette's heart swell with a rush of pride and love.

"You're always telling me how wonderful I am, Yoshika, but you're pretty darned wonderful yourself, you know?" The small girl's face grew even redder hearing her love compliment her so. Lynette was about to embrace her in a warm hug, but the ship chose that moment to make another incredible lurch.

"Oh, God!" Lynette gasped miserably. She felt Yoshika draw her closer and allowed her head to be guided down into the younger girl's lap.

"I may be able to help you a bit, if you'll allow me to," Yoshika said softly. Lynette nodded.

"Now, I've never done _this_ exactly, but I have done something very similar many times before." Laying a hand on Lynne's forehead and holding her other hand, she caught her gaze with a serious look. "If anything starts to feel weird or bad you let me know _immediately_ okay?"

"Okay," Lynette answered weakly.

Furrowing her brow in concentration, Yoshika invoked her magic. The ears and tail of her Mame-Shiba spirit familiar manifested and the cabin filled with a soft, bluish-white light. As she allowed herself to fall into a light semi-trance, she used her powers to look within the body of the girl resting in her lap. Satisfied that she had an accurate internal map, she gently began the process of altering Lynne's body chemistry on the cellular level.

Tweaking endorphin production, regulating the fluid reaction to motion in the middle ear, and releasing peptides to calm her loves' roiling stomach.

Lynette felt a soothing warmth spreading throughout her body. The violent feeling of illness suddenly disappeared. The bashful Britannian had been expecting a gradual lessening of her discomfort, but instead, there was an abrupt cessation.

"Oh, my." Lynne sighed. "It's gone. It's just _gone_. I can't believe it." She gazed up at the younger girl with gratitude. "Thank you so much, Yoshika."

The tiny brunette gave a relieved smile. "I'm really glad I could help."

They remained together like that for some few minutes, cuddling together, savoring the warmth inside as a counterpoint to the raging storm outside. Then, suddenly, Lynne sat up, climbed out of bed and turned to face Yoshika with a mischievous look on her face.

"I believe," The Britannian girl began in a sultry voice. "I was in the process of telling you just how wonderful you are, my darling Yoshhh - kaaa - channn." With each extended syllable, she slid the straps of her nightgown off of her arms and allowed it to flow down her body and pool at her feet.

Yoshika gaped open-mouthed as she took in the view of Lynne's now naked body standing before her.

"Lynette," she whispered.

Lynne shook her honey-brown hair out of its signature braid and allowed it to cascade down her shoulders. She was a vision of beauty and Yoshika was unable to tear her gaze away. Wordlessly, the younger girl slid the sheer 'teddy' she was wearing up over her head and tossed it carelessly aside. She then scooted underneath the blanket and raised the side for Lynne to join her.

Their bodies intertwined and Yoshika whimpered in need as her small, firm breasts rubbed against Lynette's larger, softer ones. The rocking of the ship enhanced the movement of their bodies against one another. Lynne's knee came up between Yoshika's legs and gently but firmly pressed into her core. Lynne caught Yoshika's lips in her own as the little Fuso girl moaned her desire.

"I want to give _**all**_ of myself to you, Yoshika. Everything that I am." Lynne breathed in a husky voice. "I want you to make me _**yours**_. I want to belong to only _**you**_."

No further words were spoken or were necessary. With nothing left to hold them back, the two young lovers pledged their bodies and souls to one another in the most deeply intimate and meaningful manner possible.

In the tiny cabin of a ship being thrown roughly about in storm-tossed seas, Lynette and Yoshika made love for the very first time. Their sex was passionate and fierce and gentle and tender and went on and on for quite some time.

After untold hours, both girls fell into an exhausted and deeply satisfied sleep.

* * *

 **- _September 18, 1943  
\- RAF Watnall — Location: Undisclosed  
\- 03:00 Hours_**

"This outcome wasn't entirely unexpected General Maloney," one of the shadowed figures on the dais above him proclaimed. "You are singularly unsuited for public relations of any sort, seeing as how you lack anything vaguely resembling tact or subtlety."

Trevor Maloney bristled at the harsh criticism being leveled at him. "This was all part of the program. The seeds of doubt have to be planted somewhere," he argued to the faceless men sitting above him. "Where better to do that than during their first PR engagement?"

"In Britannia?" a second unidentified voice asked incredulously. "In a community largely comprised of relocated _Cardiff citizenry_? In the _**backyard**_ of one of the _**most decorated Witch Units in Europa**_?"

The speaker's voice fairly dripped with contempt. "Are you truly imbecilic enough to believe that you could have swayed public opinion in any fashion under those circumstances?"

"If those men had followed my orders and decisively beaten down the Witches in all four matches…" Maloney began to retort angrily.

"Then the outcome would have been even worse," concluded a third voice from the dais.

"As it is, you've attracted the attention of Briggs and Bader. If either of them can round up enough evidence of Silent Op activity around this program, they will be able to convince the staff at Operational Oversight Command to investigate further."

"Briggs is a doddering old fool," Maloney scoffed. "His support is weak. His time is past."

"We're not yet ready to mount a coup against the Allied military command structure," Voice Two added. "We're close, but not quite there yet."

"Look, all I'm saying…" Maloney began.

"Enough!" Voice One snarled. "This was initially _your_ project General Maloney. Your Black Fund operation. _You_ came seeking _**us**_. So we were inclined to allow you to take the lead in its implementation. However, now that plans proceed accordingly, you have proven yourself inadequate to the task."

The general became desperate. "Look, I can fix whatever's wrong. Just let me get my team together…"

"Control of the MAGUS Program has already been assigned to someone better suited to bring the program results into line with our on goals."

Maloney's face went pale. "You can't mean that."

"It's already done," the voice concluded.

"Thank you for your hard work, General Maloney." the Fuso inflected voice intoned solemnly. "Your services are no longer required."

"But…but you can't!" Maloney stammered. "You can't just do that," he glared upward. "Who? Who's taking over my project?"

"That is no longer your concern," Voice One answered coldly. "You forget your place Maloney. And our indulgence of your ego is at an end."

"General," Voice Three stated imperiously. "If you hope to have any voice or standing at all in the new order, you would do well to _**shut**_ your mouth and do as you're _**told**_. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Maloney slowly answered in defeat.

"Yes. I understand."

* * *

 ** _\- September 18, 1943  
\- USS Manchester — Location: North Sea  
\- 04:00 Hours_**

The alarm on Charlotte's watch woke her up at 4 am sharp. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and checked to make sure Francisca was still sleeping soundly. Grabbing a small satchel she had placed next to her bed earlier, she quickly and silently slipped out of her cabin and made her way towards the starboard aft deck.

She had a date to keep.

Turning up the collar of her flight jacket, Charlotte made her way topside. It wasn't quite pitch black out, taking into consideration the dim illumination from the deck lighting and the ships running lights. The air was crisp and cold but at least the storm had abated. Shards of wet ice adhered to the metal railings.

Catching her bearings, she headed aft wards. Soon she spotted the waiting figure standing below one of the gun turrets. She made a low whistle.

"Yo, Bill, over here," Charlotte called out in a shouted whisper. Bill stepped out of the shadows to meet her. "You been waiting long?" she asked.

"Nah," Bill answered her. "My teeth aren't even chattering yet." He closed his coat tighter. "Did you bring your stuff?"

In answer, Charlotte thumbed the thick leather strap draped over her shoulder. "Now, before we start this, I want you to answer me honestly…did you clear this with Lieutenant Hughes?"

"Well…yes…" Bill answered uneasily. "Kind of. Obliquely. Might have mentioned something in passing." Charlotte gave him a wry look. "I just didn't want to involve him if I'm wrong. And I _definitely_ don't want to involve him if I'm right."

"Okay," Charlotte nodded. "I get it. But right about what?"

Bill gave her a helpless look.

"Right," she sighed. "I guess we'll know when we find it, huh?"

The enormity of what they were about to do suddenly hit Bill square on. He was about to disobey standing orders by allowing someone from outside the project to get a good look at the MAGUS inner workings. Forget what would happen to him…this could potentially result in a court-martial offense for Charlotte if they were caught.

"Captain Yeager I'm beginning to have second thoughts about this," he said seriously. "I shouldn't have asked you to get involved. It's our problem after all." He took a deep breath. "We should have plenty of time to suss things out once we've reached Karlsland."

Charlotte stopped and gave him a questioning look.

Her fellow pilot gave an exasperated sigh. "I don't want you to screw up your career because you listened to one of my stupid hunches."

She gave him a wicked grin. "Not a chance in _hell,_ Corporal. I've been _dying_ to dismantle one of those puppies since the day you guys showed up at Capel-le-Ferne."

She started walking towards the opening to the aft flight deck gangway, motioning for Bill to follow.

"Besides, I'm your CO. At least for the next two and a half weeks." She gave him a sly wink. "I gotta watch out for my people, right?"

A gated chain link fence blocked the entrance to Hanger Two from the aft gangway. Bill was running through ways to defeat the locks in his head. But Charlotte strolled, unconcerned, to the side gate and it swung open at her touch.

"Magic?" Bill asked his partner in crime.

"Nope," Charlotte answered, turning to smile at him. "I guess I kinda broke the lock when I was down here earlier checking on my Striker. Whoops!"

She bowed and motioned him inside. The hanger was empty. There were no guards posted. Really, why would there be? The MAGUS were no longer classified. Officially, they were just another aircraft being hauled along.

Bill kept lookout as Charlotte opened the electrostatic seal to his MAGUS and climbed up inside. She draped her left leg and arm in the flight harness and laid out her tool kit.

Reaching back into the bag once more, she pulled out a portable spectrometer and a little metallic gadget of her own invention — essentially a home-made, hand-held, electron microscope. Topping off her stealth-engineering ensemble was a tiny sketch pad and mechanical pencil so she could diagram the thing and study it at her leisure.

She went at it non-stop for over 45 minutes. Bill could hear her mumbling and sometimes cursing all the while. He almost jumped out of his skin when the spectrometer gave a loud squeal, shattering the silence of the hanger deck. He heard Charlotte give him a muffled "Sorry."

Amazingly, no one seemed to hear it. No one approached. "Almost done," Charlotte told him. The blackness of the sky was just beginning to turn gray with the approaching dawn.

"I hope so," Bill answered back. "We're gonna get caught in the middle of the flight crews' morning calisthenics if we don't beat feet real soon."

Charlotte finally emerged from the armor, covered in sweat, oil and lubricant. "Grab these for me, will'ya?" she asked Bill, as she handed the tool kit and spectrometer down for him to collect. She hopped out of the unit, closed the seal and quickly put her jacket back on.

"Well?" he pressed, "What did you find out?"

"Later Bill, later," the redhead answered as she packed up her tools. "We need to get topside pronto or else we are going to have to answer some questions we really don't want to answer right now."

* * *

It was exactly 05:30 hours when they reached the quarter decks. A handful of bleary crewmen were milling about, getting an early star on morning muster. Charlotte and Bill parted company there and went back to their respective cabins.

Bill was relatively safe, regardless. Even if Vincent had noticed him gone, he wasn't likely to question Bill as to his whereabouts. Francesca, on the other hand, would never stop grilling Charlotte if she noticed the buxom bombshell had left their cabin for an extended period of time.

Luckily for Charlotte, when she slipped back into their room, the tiny terror was still sprawled out on her back, snoring up a storm. She shimmied out of her clothes and slid into bed. She would wait for morning reveille and pretend to wake up normally with the rest of them.

While she was lying in bed waiting for 06:00 to come along, her thoughts were racing a mile a minute — piecing together all that she had seen in the past hour.

She allowed her thought processes and perceptions to slide into overdrive… … …

Bill Fiske had every right to feel uneasy, Charlotte reflected. General Maloney and the R&D boffins had withheld vital information about the aircraft from the pilots. They had effectively strapped each of these unwitting soldiers into a potential time bomb that _may_ go off at any time or may not _**ever**_ go off _**at**_ _**all**_.

She hadn't told Bill the _real_ reason she had taken a personal interest in helping him answer some nagging questions he had about the machine he was flying. It wasn't just because she was curious about the tech nor because the MAGUS pilots were 'her people'. No, it was because of a piece of paper she found on the Mildenhall fair grounds yesterday evening as they were packing up to return to the base.

For some reason, the windblown notepaper caught her eye. Picking it up, she soon found herself reading a final draft of the speech Maloney had given on-stage before the combat demo. He had obviously dropped it in his haste to chastise his 'uncooperative' pilots.

She had been about to toss it aside in disinterest when she had noticed a hand-written notation, crudely scrawled along the bottom of the page. What was written there both surprised and troubled her.

 _ **"MAGUS core fragment salvage prioritized  
above all other considerations. Pilots are  
expendable. Acceptable collateral damage."**_

" _Pilots are 'expendable, huh?"_ Charlotte scoffed. It had to be a euphemism. He couldn't possibly literally mean expendable as in dead…could he? But, 'acceptable collateral damage'?

" _If he really meant it that way, why in god's name would he actually write it_ _ **down**_ _? Is he an_ _ **idiot**_ _? Some pulp fiction villain?"_ She folded the paper and slid it into her pocket.

Considering the kind of man she thought the general to be, she couldn't dismiss any possibility. Protocol required her to talk to Lieutenant Hughes first, but she had decided to approach Bill Fiske instead. She felt they had built up a rapport over the past few days, and she knew that something had been eating at him during their last couple nights of bar chats. _'Did you ever pilot a plane that you just didn't trust mechanically?'_ he had asked her. ' _Like, the entire time you're in flight you're expecting something to go wrong?'_

She had intended to talk to him about it after they got settled aboard the _Manchester,_ but he beat her to it, resulting in their just-completed clandestine mission to the hanger deck.

Bill hadn't openly stated his misgivings about the MAGUS but Charlotte could make an educated guess – probably the same misgivings she herself would have — What guarantee did they have that the core fragment wouldn't 'wake-up' somehow? That would be catastrophic…especially if it happened while the pilot was inside.

That was the biggest thing of immediate concern to Charlotte. The Core Fragment containment cage — as well as the control matrix it was mounted on. Apparently, the control matrix was used to manipulate the inert fragment using different hypersonic waveforms. Grey Matter regeneration, power distribution, communications array…she needed to know how all that worked.

If the guys were stuck with the MAGUS, she intended to make certain the MAGUS power source was foolproof. If it wasn't then she would _**make**_ it foolproof.

What had Maloney said in his speech? They were ready to begin mass production? Really? The prototypes hadn't even tasted live enemy fire yet. And what was the rush? And why tell a crowd of people you were trying to rally to your cause that the people who had been protecting them so far were unreliable? So many unrelated questions emanating from the same source.

She needed to find a secluded work space as soon as they got to Soesterberg. Luckily, she knew the Chief Warrant Officer there, so finding an empty workbench shouldn't be a problem.

She needed to speak with someone familiar with R&D protocols and maybe some level of access. Someone she could trust…someone within a day's travel…someone…

" _ **Oh!**_ _Oh! Oh! Oh! Hartmann's geeky little sister, with the lab coat and the explosives fetish!"_

Charlotte found herself a little bit frightened of the responsibility she had just taken on. Her instincts told her that there was more to all of this than appeared on the surface. The guys would only be safe if the lid were blown off this mess while they were still 'on-tour' with the Propaganda Squad.

 _"Pilots are expendable…"_

If she couldn't figure this all out before they left their last stop in Riga, then Bill, Vince, and the lieutenant would report to their permanent posting in Karlsland. She honestly didn't know what would happen to them afterward.

 _"Acceptable collateral damage…"_

She only knew that they could potentially be in danger, not from the enemy, but from their own superiors.


	9. Amsterdam on Five Dollars a Day: Part 2

****A/N:**** Welcome back. Please enjoy this chapter. ** **  
****

"Strike Witches hajimeru yo!"

 **Amsterdam on Five Dollars a Day (part 2)**

* * *

 **- _September 21, 1943  
\- Soesterberg Royal Nedurlund Air Force Base  
\- Amsterdam dur Nedurlunds_**

Charlotte had convinced Bill Fiske to take the day off with the others by telling him, quite truthfully, that it would take some serious grinding on her part to make sense of anything she had found, so he needed to give her a day or two to show him her findings. She was immersed in the meticulous process of correlating all the data she had gathered when Ursula Hartmann showed up.

She had tried to contact Hartmann the previous day. The Karlslander finally got back to her using a secured channel. That raised a couple of eyebrows in the communications tower, but no one said a word. As they were over a secure line, Charlotte was felt able to discuss the situation and her needs in some detail. They had previously met in a professional capacity, and Charlotte knew and trusted Erica Hartmann's opinion of her sister. In the end, Ursula told Charlotte she would check things on her end and get back to her ASAP. Even though speed was promised Charlotte was still surprised to receive a call back less than two hours later.

The redhead immediately noticed the slightly different tone to Hartmann's voice in this conversation. "Hey Shirley, I found those R&D fuel-mix charts you wanted."

" _Fuel-mix charts?"_ thought Charlotte. However, she instinctively answered. "Great! Thanks for the help."

"Y'know," Hartmann drawled. "I'm overdue for some leave. I'll drop them by myself since it's only a half day's travel. It'd be great to see you again Shirley — re-live all those great times we had together. Ha! Remember that guy, with the thing, at that weird little pub in Wickshire?"

Charlotte was confused for an instant. Yes, she had met Ursula Hartmann twice before. The first time was for the span of about 20 minutes, when she flew with a transport into Capel-le-Ferne, to pick up Erica for their mothers' funeral. The second time was maybe a total of a few hours when she was on base to demonstrate some new ordnance. They had met, but they weren't really on a first-name basis.

And they had _never_ been to a pub together.

"Okay, Urs…sounds good to me," Charlotte answered smoothly, using the same casual tone. "There are some great joints in Amsterdam. I'll treat you this time."

So. There was something going on. Something much more involved than what she had thought. That was glaringly obvious. Something so big that Hartmann wouldn't even talk about it on a secure line. She had gone out of her way to try to make both the research request and her request for leave time seem innocuous. Nervous and intrigued, she had awaited the Karlslander's arrival.

—

Ursula Hartmann proved to be a godsend. She came equipped with a wealth of classified knowledge and a taste for the clandestine. As well as…

"The MAGUS project notes? How on earth did you get these?"

"One of the project heads was on loan from our facility," Hartmann answered. "It wasn't difficult to dip into his files and pull this stuff up. Some of it is redacted, but that's mostly personnel-related stuff. The research itself seems to be untouched."

Charlotte was grateful beyond words. "I can't thank you enough, Hartmann. This will save me so much time in research." She took the folders offered to her. "I'm sorry you had to come all this way just for this. It wasn't a problem was it?"

"It _is_ a problem," the little blonde researcher commented. "...but not in the way you may think. The truth is you've stumbled into something way bigger than you are aware of." She kicked at her rucksack. "I've requested a week's leave. There is some heavy stuff going down and, quite frankly, you're going to need some help."

Charlotte gave her an inquisitive look. Ursula merely nodded her head towards the stack of reports Charlotte now held. "Why don't you read over some of that stuff while I talk to the base CO about getting a billet for a few days."

Deep into the night, the busty redhead was still immersed in reports. One thing she had gotten wrong…the MAGUS program itself wasn't the problem — the problem was the internecine political forces propping it up. It was astonishing how much could be kept under wraps by hiding it in plain sight. Putting together a number of seemingly unrelated occurrences revealed a clear trail of circumstance and result. All leading to a clear singular goal. A goal that was horrifying.

She now understood why Ursula had decided to stay on and help them. This was undeniable proof of massive corruption and outright treason, of an almost inconceivable scope. When faced with a cesspool such as this, one had few options — turn your back and pretend it doesn't exist or dive in head-first and get filthy. The redoubtable Miss Hartmann seemed to like it dirty.

* * *

 **- _September 22, 1943  
\- Soesterberg Royal Nedurlund Air Force Base_**

Francesca had been at odds as to what to do with herself. Earlier in the day, the little Romagnan had finally tracked down Charlotte in one of the empty bays in the ordinance area, only to find the older girl hip-deep in technical drawings and having a heated discussion with some glasses-girl who looked an _awful_ lot like Erica Hartmann.

A familiar ozone-like metallic tang from a metal lathe hung in the air. Shirley was either building something or taking something apart. Francesca, from experience, knew better than to interrupt the Liberion ace when she was immersed in something like this.

She decided, instead, to hunt down Lynette and Yoshika. They had had four days alone together, not counting the group exercises, so she figured they ought to be feeling social by now. Not to mention the way the two lovebirds had floated through breakfast a couple of mornings ago and spent a good portion of that entire day in a complete daze. It was pretty obvious they had sealed the deal on the trip over and she couldn't wait to grill Yoshika for the juicy details.

As she trotted up to the front gate, she spotted the two girls in question waiting patiently for her. Both greeted her with a smile. "Lucchini-chan konnichiwa." Yoshika greeted her happily.

" _Ah. Girls' day out,"_ Francesca mused happily. " _Just what the dottore ordered."_

"Hi, guys. Ready for a day on the town?" the twin-tailed terror greeted cheerily.

"Yes!" Yoshika chirped enthusiastically "There's a ton of stuff to see. I hardly know where to start." Lynne gave a warm smile and a wave. "Good afternoon." She fell into step behind the two smaller girls as they scampered ahead, chattering excitedly.

It was a fun, if uneventful, day. Even though technically the beginning of autumn, the picturesque city still looked and felt rather summery. The window boxes of nearly every business and residence were overflowing with colorful flowers. Modern motorcars shared the cobblestone streets with horse-drawn carts.

The light breeze was surprisingly warm, which felt odd considering they had just come through a sleet storm on the _USS Manchester_ just a couple of days earlier. The three power-tripped the town, seeing as much as they could. Francesca was amused by the Amsterdam stacked semi-circular canals. "Our canals are like a road system. I don't quite get the point of these." the tiny Romagnan quipped.

It was later in the afternoon when all the commotion happened.

—

Lynne and Yoshika were strolling happily hand-in-hand down one of the main thoroughfares with Francesca in the lead. The girls, as well as the crowds of people on the sidewalk around them, were startled by the loud explosion of a truck backfiring. The unfortunate horse standing next to the truck bolted in terror dragging a crate-laden wagon behind it, sending a crowd of people scattering. Among those fleeing was a young boy who tripped and landed directly in the path of the runaway equine.

The three young pilots had no chance to react before the horse trampled the boy, running over him with the wagon as well, as it raced away. Without discussion, Francesca began chasing down the runaway horse while Yoshika and Lynette raced to the boy's side. He was in bad shape when they finally reached him, his entire body covered in bruises and abrasions. The left leg was bent at such an angle that even a layman would be able to tell it was broken. Dark purplish-yellow, with the outline of the broken femur pressing the skin from the inside. Worse was the sickening whistle that emitted when the boy gasped for breath.

Yoshika's power flared to life about her. "His ribcage has been crushed. One of his lungs is punctured…the left one, most likely," the tiny healer said out loud to no one in particular. Her mind raced as she tried to decide which injury she should attend to first. She was shaken from her thoughts by the quiet but confident voice of her girlfriend.

"I want to help, Yoshika. What can I do to help?" Lynette asked.

"Okay," Yoshika responded. "For right now, try to calm him down a bit. Talk to him. If you can, get his mind off what I'm doing." She focused all her concentration on the young patient in front of her. Lynette held the boy's hand and spoke to him in a comforting manner. He responded to her voice and tried his best to put on a brave face. Ultimately the pain overwhelmed him and he fell unconscious.

" _Yoshika!"_ Lynne blurted out in alarm.

"It's alright," Yoshika assured her. "He doesn't have a concussion. It's actually better this way."

She continued to pour her magic into the small, broken body beneath her. There were a couple of small pools of blood forming on the boy's chest. "Could…" she panted with exertion. "…could you try to find some cloth we can make bandages out of? Maybe someone in the crowd could help."

The little Fuso ace was startled when she immediately heard the sound of ripping cloth. Looking up, she was surprised to see Lynette, now clad in only her bra, tearing her white dress shirt into strips. Yoshika allowed herself a small smile of gratification at the way Lynne was stepping up. Her girl really was wonderful.

She directed Lynette to gently lift the small body so she could apply the makeshift bandages. Then, carefully placing him back on the ground, she continued to use her magic to repair the boy's internal injuries. Throughout the ordeal Lynne was right beside her — supporting her, encouraging her, focusing her…a comforting hand on her shoulder, mopping the sweat from her brow.

" _Is this how it will be with us from now on?"_ Yoshika wondered. While she worked she imagined how their lives might be. Living together, maybe even working together. " _That would be…really nice,"_ she thought happily.

* * *

An ambulance finally arrived. Yoshika's quick action and her amazing power ensured that not only would the boy make a full recovery, but there wouldn't even be any scarring. She was amply rewarded by the loving hug Lynne had gathered her into — a hug that Francesca didn't hesitate to join in on.

As they were in the center of town, they were able to find a woman's clothing shop in short order. While Lynette went in to find a replacement for the shirt she'd used on triage care, Yoshika and Francesca sat down on a park bench across the street from the store and started chatting amicably.

"Nice job there, Yoshika. You really saved that kid's hash," the Romagnan pilot said, with a tone of admiration.

"That's what I do. Well, that's what I _want_ to do someday you know?" Yoshika answered her seriously. "I want to be a Doctor, just like my okaasan and obaachan."

"Lynne seemed to be a big help there too, huh?" Francesca nodded her head toward the dress shop. "She jumped right in with no hesitation whatsoever."

"Yeah," Yoshika answered, with a sigh and a dreamy smile. "She really is great, isn't she?"

"Yeah, she really is." Francesca shifted a bit uncomfortably. "It really makes me feel like all of us failed her somehow."

Yoshika was somewhat startled to hear her friend sound so down all of a sudden. Her curiosity was peaked. "What do you mean, Lucchini-chan?"

"Lynne was with us for about five or six months before you showed up. She was nice enough — we all liked her — but she never participated in the group. We'd invite her, try to include her, but she always kept to herself. Stayed closed off."

The tiny Romagnan looked down, almost ashamedly. "After a while, I guess…we just stopped trying."

"But then _you_ came along Yoshika. You shook up the whole place when you arrived," the younger girl grinned at the memory. "And you got Lynne's attention right off the bat. She seemed to change almost overnight. She started doing stuff with the rest of us and she got way more confident in the field. Now look at her. Jumping in to perform triage, getting half naked in public without a second thought." She chuckled lightly. "I didn't know she had it in her."

Yoshika gave her little friend a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "She always had it in her Lucchini-chan. I don't know why I was the one able to bring it out but I'm glad I was. I'm really glad."

"I truly believe you were the one she was waiting for." Francesca looked up through her bangs and gave her friend a warm smile. "In Romagna we say ' _Eravamo destinati a incontrarci_ '. It means ' _We were destined to meet_ '. I'd have to say that really describes you and Lynne to a 'T'."

Their conversation was interrupted by the cheerful voice of the girl in question. "Yoshika! Francesca! Sorry to keep you guys waiting so long."

"I hope you have a saying for ' _destined to be together forever,_ ' Lucchini-chan," murmured Yoshika as she rose from the bench.

Francesca watched with a smile as Yoshika rushed into Lynne's waiting arms. _"Yeah, Yoshika. There's one for that too. Gotcha covered."_

* * *

 **- _September 22, 1943  
_ - _RAF Mildenhall Shared Flight Facilities  
_ - _Office of General Trevor Maloney_**

Major Sinquett stood before the expansive mahogany desk and threw a nervous salute to the man sitting behind it. "Sir, our operatives report Dr. Hartmann arrived at Soesterberg late this afternoon. She made contact with Captain Yeager and has been in her company ever since."

"She should never have been allowed to leave in the first place. The whole base should have been on lock-down after you discovered the security breach. St. Trond's commander must be an imbecile," Maloney growled. "Well, this works for us, in a way. Now we know where all of our leaks are. We can plug them all at once."

He reached for a notebook lying on his desk and flipped it open to one of the back-most pages. "They will be leaving for Copenhagen day after tomorrow. That means Hartmann will be heading back to St. Trond. Have her intercepted before she returns to her base."

"Yes sir," the major answered smartly. "What about the MAGUS pilots and the Witches from the 501st? How do we deal with them?"

"Quite easily and with no fingerprints," the general replied. "Have one of our operatives in Copenhagen sabotage the sub-harmonic cloak on the MAGUS units. We'll just let the Neuroi take care of them for us on their trip to Riga. We'll go in when it's done and pick up the pieces."

"Sir! Yes, sir!" the major snapped another salute and spun on his heel, leaving General Maloney to ponder his thoughts.

" _It'd be nice if their heads are still intact afterward, but you can't have everything."_

* * *

 **- _September 23, 1943  
_ \- _Soesterberg Air Force Base — Briefing Room 16  
_ \- _09:00 Hours_**

After almost 72 hours of straight research and heavy grinding, Charlotte had arranged a briefing room and the entire Propaganda Squad were in attendance. After all, what she had to say affected all of them.

"As the fragment performs repeated functions it creates for itself a 'neural network' for lack of a better term," Charlotte explained. "When each of you first got your suits, the Core fragments had only basic neural pathways etched into them. They could fly but that was about it. Am I right?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Vince confirmed. "…'bout as agile as a tractor inna swamp."

"But with each test run, it got easier to handle? To the point where you feel, as I've heard Mister Mallory here put it more than once, _'as_ _one with the machine_ _?'_ Is it really that responsive now?"

"I've gotta say yes. It's definitely more than just flying it," Bill answered thoughtfully. "When I'm performing a complex maneuver it seems as if it reads the tiny nuances I envision in my mind. There is no other way to describe how it performs exactly as I want it to."

"Ah, yes," Charlotte cut in again. "That brings us to the control yokes. Bill, you said a couple of times you got the jitters and your palms were sweaty, your skin and the yoke turned slightly green. That's because the yokes are primarily copper. Copper with gold inlays. That's not a fashion statement." She poked a finger in Bill's face. "What do you know about computers?"

"What? Umm… I read 'Popular Mechanics' so I'm kinda up to speed, as much as any layman would be."

"Well not to put to fine a point on it, you guys are being used to program the Fragments. Somehow your nerve impulses or brainwaves or whateverthehell are transmitted through the control interface and etched into the fragment as neural pathways."

"Like the positronic brains in Dr. Asimov's robot books?" Bill asked hesitantly.

Charlotte gave a delighted response "Yes! _Exactly_ so." She eyed the pilot critically and grinned. "So you _do_ have hobbies besides cruising for girls, huh flyboy? My estimation of you just went up a couple of notches."

"Uh…thanks?" Bill replied with a hapless grin of his own.

"So…people…" Charlotte continued in a more serious manner. "I have a current working theory, based on what I've discovered, along with certain information provided to me by Lieutenant Hartmann here and some gut instinct." She turned and walked to the back of the room. "First, though, I have something I need to show you. Ursula?"

The lab-coat frocked blonde nodded and turned the lights off. Charlotte clicked a switch and the slide projector on the table in front of her flared to life. Projected onto the white wall was what looked to be a nondescript military base, some place with a lot of sand and wide-open areas, with a couple of palm trees in the background. Framed in the shot were four large and very familiar-looking objects.

Bill sat up with a start. "Are those…?"

"Yep," Charlotte confirmed. "Those are MAGUS units — the MAGUS Mark I, to be specific."

"Mark I?" questioned Lt. Hughes. "We were told that our units were prototypes."

"That looks like a desert," Bill stated. "Not the Liberion Midwest, we don't have palm trees. Soooo... Afrika? The Middle East?"

"Near as we can figure, Northern Afrika. Ursula here thinks that these photos were taken about seven months ago," Charlotte answered, looking over her shoulder.

Hartmann nodded in the affirmative. Charlotte then advanced the slideshow, clicking through picture after picture showing the Mark I units performing maneuvers.

Vince's confusion was evident in his voice. "So they lied to us about our units being the first? Why? What would it matter if we knew we were another part of the same test program?"

Ursula cleared her throat and spoke up for the first time. "Well, for one thing… Shirley, will you advance to the next slide?" The picture on the wall slid aside for the next in the series. Nothing but sand and the same palm trees in the distance. The buildings from the previous photos were missing. "…for one thing, the base is no longer there," Ursula continued. "I tried to research when and why the base was decommissioned. I found that — officially at least — it never existed. And the depository I dipped into to get these records four days ago, I was able to confirm this morning, has since been sanitized. Whatever this is all about, it is current and ongoing."

The bespectacled research scientist frowned. "That's not the biggest bombshell either. When I pulled these records, I was also able to identify who the test pilots were. All four are now listed as MIA, all mention as to where or how they went missing _and_ their personnel files have been redacted."

The slide projector advanced once more, this time showing a thickly forested area, with Quonset huts nestled closely together and covered by air camouflage netting. The mechanical figures shown standing on the airfield looked quite different from the now-familiar configuration of the MAGUS. Slightly smaller. More angular.

Advancing through this series of slides, it became quite evident that these new units were quicker and much more agile. And glaringly, a completely different set of weaponry was in use…particle beams.

At this point, Bill was beyond being amazed. "What in God's name are those things?"

Ursula pushed her glasses up on her nose and glanced down at her notes. "They are called WARLOCK — no idea why. It doesn't appear to be an acronym, like the MAGUS. The word itself comes from fiction, of course. In fantasy literature, a warlock is a male who can use magic. Hmmph…like that doesn't tell you something, right there," she muttered sourly. "Sorry. Went off-topic a bit. At any rate, the WARLOCK are fully autonomous war machines, in the shape of a humanoid." Looking up from her notepad, she continued. "It's powered by a captured, _fully intact_ , Neuroi core. There is a computer inside that calculates distance, trajectory, firing solutions…basically, you give it a target and let it go nuts."

Everyone in the room was silent as they took in the spectacle of sheer carnage displayed in each succeeding slide. Hartmann sighed deeply as she closed the pages of the folder she held.

"These photos date back to about May of this year. This program was well underway while the MAGUS program was being formed." A frown marred her brow. "The WARLOCK program has since been discontinued. The WARLOCK had a tendency to go rogue and turn on their controllers."

Hartmann glanced up at Charlotte and indicated the slideshow should continue. The captain advanced the slides once more. Again, some sort of hidden training facility was on display. This time, the mecha units they viewed were radically different from the previous two types, much more compact and angular than either the MAGUS or WARLOCK Units. Although much smaller than their counterparts they seemed to exude an aura of deadly intent.

"This is where things get scary," Ursula commented. "You guys pay attention because Captain Yeager and I think this directly affects you…in a decidedly negative fashion."

As Charlotte advanced the slide show once again, Ursula continued her narration.

"This research base is not-so-coincidentally located in Karlsland — adjunct to the base you boys will be reporting to. When the WARLOCK program didn't pan out, the Militarized Autonomous Guerrilla Infantry program was instated, alongside the MAGUS program. The MAGI are another manned solution to the artificial intelligence problem that plagued the WARLOCK. In fact, the MAGUS is — in a round-about way — a support program for the MAGI."

Bill continued to be the most vocal of the three male pilots. "Waitaminute! Those MAGI things are manned?" he exclaimed incredulously. "What are they piloted by? Dwarfs?"

The attempt at levity fell flat as Ursula deadpanned "No. Not dwarfs." She remained silent for a moment. Then continued in a serious voice. "I won't lie to you, this has me more than a little spooked."

The slide currently up on the wall showed an indoor facility that seemed half construction bay and half operating theater. Fully visible on the wheeled gurneys were four obviously dead bodies. Obvious mostly because the tops of the skulls of all four cadavers had been removed. The next slide revealed a sight that, while a logical outcome of the previous picture, was highly disturbing nonetheless.

Four human brains, each encased in a bell jar and floating in some sort of viscous fluid. The sight felt unreal. It actually took some few seconds before just exactly what they were seeing fully registered with everyone in the room. When they did, they all recoiled in a similar fashion, although Lynette seemed more deeply affected by the sight than her companions. She turned away from the screen and buried her head in Yoshika's shoulder. It took everything she had in her to keep from crying.


	10. Don't Stand in My Way

****A/N:**** Welcome back. Please enjoy this chapter. ** **  
****

"Strike Witches hajimaru yo!"

 **Don't stand in my way!**

* * *

The Propaganda Squad stared in horror at the grisly display projected on the wall before them. The bodies of the Mark I pilots lay on gurneys, the empty skull cavities prominently facing the camera.

"Once the neural pathways are inscribed into the a core fragment, it becomes highly responsive. However, it is only fully compatible with the pilot who inscribed it," lectured Ursula. "The researchers in the MAGI program discovered the entire pilot isn't required to operate them…only the living mind that created the pathways in the first place."

Charlotte resolutely continued the slide show. A number of pictures showed surgeons inserting electrodes directly into brain tissue. Each bell jar containing a human brain was then placed into the open fronts of a MAGI Unit and lead wires from within the construct were attached to the electrode leads. Finally, the Core fragment from each pilot's MAGUS was removed and placed within the containment cage of the corresponding MAGI.

At this point, Lynette began trembling furiously. Yoshika discreetly leaned forward and spoke quietly in her ear. "If this is too much for you…"

" **No!** " Lynette protested, loudly enough to elicit a reaction from everyone. Then, embarrassed, she repeated more quietly. "No. I'm ok, Yoshika. Really. I can take it. This is important. And I'm part of this squad too…I need to know this stuff."

"Are you sure, kid?" Bill asked her, with concern in his voice. "None of us will think any less of you if you need to take a breather." Everyone in the room nodded in agreement.

"You don't need to force yourself, Lynne," Charlotte assured her. "Yoshika can fill you in on the important stuff later."

Lynette looked up at the genuinely worried faces of her squad-mates. Knowing that not only Yoshika, but all of them, were there for her gave her courage and strengthened her resolve "It's okay everyone. Really. I'm one of you and I want to face everything with you." She smiled weakly. "This is no different than some of the things I've faced in battle."

Ursula Hartmann harrumphed loudly. "Of course this is different. War is war. **This** is butchery, plain and simple. But it _is_ important for all of you to see this." She looked back at Charlotte and gave her a slight nod. Once more the slides advanced, the current one showing a mustached man with sharp eyes and dapper suit standing on a raised metal grating overlooking the operating theater.

"That man is the MAGI project head," Ursula stated. "Dr. Josef Mengelé. He's a brilliant, albeit twisted, surgeon who lacks any shred of ethics or decency." Her eyebrow arched in distaste. "He is semi-famous, or infamous rather, in my country already. About eight years ago, Dr. Mengelé was discovered to be behind a rash of disappearances near Frankfort and Dusseldorf."

"I remember," Yoshika gasped.

"What do you mean 'you remember?'" Ursula eyed the younger girl skeptically. "You must have been like, what, six or seven? And you lived in another country."

"I've always liked to read," Yoshika explained. "My otosan had every major newspaper in the world delivered to his laboratory. That's how I learned to read Britannish, Gallic and Karlslandian."

The tiny Fuso maiden squinted her eyes in concentration for a moment. "Dr. Josef Mengelé…" she recited, "…was convicted of serial abduction, unlawful imprisonment, torture and conducting illegal and unethical medical experimentation on the people that he abducted, right? I thought he was sentenced to life in prison"

"He was." Hartmann confirmed. "Unfortunately someone in Central Command must have had enough clout to get the sentence mitigated. The general consensus being that his knowledge and expertise were critical to the war effort." Her frown grew deeper. "If you think that your General Maloney is evil, then you just haven't met Dr. Mengelé. This guy is evil à la mode. Evil with a cherry on top. I am ashamed that he is a Karlslander."

"But… why?" Vince finally asked. "Ah mean, **why**? What purpose is served by choppin' these guys up an' shovin' their **brains** in a freakin' **jar**? Ah jes' don' git it. Was there an accident? Did they try ta save 'em?"

Ursula looked sadly at the young man — still a boy, really, his expression filled with confusion and hope. She hated to be the person to have to introduce him to humanity's darker side .

"I'd like to say yes, Mallory but it would be a lie." She let out a sigh. "This next bit should answer your question. This is a visual record of the first major live-weapons test of the MAGI, taking place approximately three weeks ago. Right about the time you people were doing your first combat demo for the press at Capel-le-Ferne, this was going on right under Central Command's nose. Shirley, please continue."

Again the picture changed. The first few shots were a flyover of a tiny mountain village. "This Chezhnu village is… was… somewhere in the Orussian Ural Mountains. A good half day travel from any form of civilization."

The group stared in disbelief as they watched the MAGI Units sequential spectacle of slaughter. Every single inhabitant of the village — men, women and children — without hesitation. The final photograph, a pile of dead bodies lying in the village square, lingered on the wall. The room was dead silent for a few moments. Then everyone began talking at once.

"No… they couldn't have…"  
"All those people… it's horrible…"  
"My God…this is insane…"  
"How c'n they **do** this…?"

 _"There!"_ Ursula spat in anger, pointing at the image. " _ **That's**_ why. _**That**_ is what they have been after all along. Human intellect with no humanity, no personality. An unstoppable killing machine incapable of fear or morality or disobedience…or even independent thought."

Charlotte took control of the lecture once again. "It is my opinion that all of this has _nothing_ to do with winning the war or beating the Neuroi. This is about power and control. Control over people…over armies…over countries!"

She walked to the front of the room, sat down heavily on the stool and leaned forward on the lectern. "Don't forget, before the Neuroi showed up a lot of the countries in the Alliance were about to go to war with one another. It should be no surprise that there are elements in the Allied command structure that seek to see it undermined." Picking up a pile of file folders and shaking them for emphasis, she continued. "I'm no big fan of conspiracy theories, but everything we've uncovered, everything we've pieced together, leads me to believe that there is a secret cabal within the Allied military whose goal is nothing short of world domination."

Lieutenant Hartmann faced the MAGUS pilots. "Captain Yeager initially called me because she was worried about you three. The truth is that the tech behind your battle suits is rock solid. You should have no problems with them. But, in light of these other discoveries we've made…"

The Karlslander was cut off as the Liberion mission commander stood and walked over to flip the wall switch, causing everyone to blink as their eyes adjusted.

"I've already made my decision," she continued. "We are going to go on with the tour as if there were nothing wrong. We leave for Copenhagen tomorrow. In the meantime, Lieutenant Hartmann will fly to Capel-le-Ferne and report this to the one person I know we can trust, Commander Wilcke."

Looking at each and every one of them in turn and seeing their emotions clearly written on their faces — confusion, anger, fear — she understood that they were looking to her for leadership, for answers, and for guidance. She was determined not to disappoint them.

"Our last stop before Karlsland will be Riga. Hopefully, this thing will be blown wide open before we are scheduled to leave there. But if it is not, I'm telling you here and now, there is no way I will allow you to report to your posting. If you do, I have no doubt you will end up in a jar like those Mark I pilots."

Charlotte's eyes narrowed in determination. "I swear to you I am not going to let that happen. Ladies and gentlemen, somehow, someway, we are going to expose everything that we've found, everyone involved and put an end to it."

* * *

 **- _September 24, 1943  
_ \- _Soesterberg Royal Nedurlund Air Force Base_**

The day following the Propaganda Squad's meeting, the personnel and civilian visitors to Soesterberg were treated to an outstanding and entertaining exhibition of combat piloting. The show went over as big here as it had in Britannia. With one major difference — Yoshika and Lynette were surprised at being the guests of honor at a special award ceremony. The base commander and the Mayor of Amsterdam were both pleased to honor the two girls for their heroic rescue of the young traffic accident victim they had saved. The commander gave both girls a medal and the Mayor — not to be outdone — presented them with a key to the city.

After the festivities were through, everyone prepared for their flight to Copenhagen. After personally confirming that their personal effects were safely stowed on another ship — this time a civilian freighter — and would meet them at their destination, they did the final flight check on their machines.

Charlotte and Ursula Hartmann both filed their flight plans with Soesterberg's control tower. Charlotte to Copenhagen and Ursula to St. Trond Airfield. They parted company at this point, Charlotte admonishing Ursula to be careful and to be sneaky. Both of them knew this was both the most crucial and the most dangerous part of the whole plan.

Anyone plotting to stop them would be targeting Ursula before she could blow any whistles. And anyone looking for her would realize pretty quickly that she had deviated from her flight plan. Hopefully, those people would take some time to figure out her actual destination.

* * *

 **- _September 24, 1943  
\- RAF Mildenhall Shared Flight Facilities_**

"Well?" General Maloney barked at his subordinate. "Do they have her yet? What is the hold-up?"

Major Sinquett gulped in distress. "Sir, Lieutenant Hartmann has not yet arrived at the expected coordinates. We've backtracked along the flight plan she submitted, but there is no sign of her."

Maloney steepled his hands and stared at the blank wall in back of the room, deep in thought. The major was steeling his nerve to ask if something was wrong when Maloney suddenly murmured "Capel-le-Ferne."

"Sir?" the major asked in surprise.

"She's gone to Capel-le-Ferne," the general responded coldly. "It's the only answer. Yeager sent her to talk to Wilcke." His mind raced furiously. "She won't be contacting the base beforehand. She will likely maintain radio silence until she reaches her destination. She can _not_ be allowed to report to Commander Wilcke."

He made a decision without an instant hesitation. "Nobody there will know she is en route. No one is expecting her." His gaze appeared sinister as he looked at the major over steepled fingers. "Take a few select men and personally see to it that she is shot down over the ocean. Make certain there is no body left to be discovered."

Not for the first time, Major Sinquett was appalled at his own complicity in these proceedings. He had thought jumping onboard with General Maloney would be his fast track up the ladder of promotion. But the longer he spent time with the man, the dirtier and dirtier this whole scenario was becoming. Now he was being ordered to kill a fellow officer.

He knew it would do no good to voice an opinion or openly defy the general, but his conscience wouldn't allow him to murder an innocent person either. He made a fateful decision. One he knew he would most likely pay for later, but he still needed to be able to face himself in the mirror every morning. All he could do at this point was to make sure they couldn't find her.

* * *

 ** _-_ _September 26, 1943  
_ \- _Flyvestation Skalstrup  
\- Copenhagen, Danmark_**

It had been an entertaining day for Kurtz Kripke. It wasn't often there were any special events to break up the wartime monotony on the base. " _Those pilots put on quite a show. And those MAGUS things…how cool were they?_ " Corporal Kripke thought as he headed to the MP barracks. The corporal was surprised to find a change in the duty roster for that evening. He wasn't about to complain. It meant that he would be able to spend some unexpected extra time with his wife and daughter.

He signed off on the log happily and headed home.

At about 0200 hours, a shadowed figure approached the security gate to Hanger E. The figure made a hand signal to the replacement guard and the gate slid silently aside. Entering the hanger, the anonymous person quickly spotted the Striker and MAGUS Units, prepped and ready for their flight to Riga in the morning.

Making his way through the darkened bay, he confidently strode up to the first MAGUS unit and opened the seal. Climbing into the flight harness, he situated his body so that he could reach the base of the control matrix.

The Core fragment was hanging suspended within its containment cage, pulsing softly with a blush red light. Working swiftly and quietly, he removed a blue-capped widget that looked like a standard bladed fuse. Slipping it into his right pocket, he replaced it with another, identical one, from his left. He then climbed out carefully, making sure everything laid exactly as he found it.

He moved on and repeated the process with the remaining two suits. As quickly and quietly as he came, he was gone. The night continued on in silence.

* * *

 ** _-_ _September 27, 1943  
_ _-_ _Eastern Baltic Sea  
\- Orussian Airspace_**

Something was different, Charlotte thought. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something wasn't quite right. She tried to brush it aside, but this feeling of unease kept nagging at her. Finally, she keyed her com channel open to the whole squad.

"Hey, lieutenant. Everything alright over there?"

"Affirmative, captain," Hughes answered, slightly puzzled by her tone.

"Vince?" she continued.

"Yes, ma'am. Everything's green across the board," the youngster answered in what he hoped was a professional sounding voice.

"Bill?" Charlotte questioned her fellow Liberion.

"I'm five-by-five, Cap," Bill returned. He paused briefly. "What's up? You getting a feeling?"

"I don't know," Charlotte answered truthfully. "How about you girls? Everything copacetic?"

"Yup!" chirped Francesca.

"Yes, Shirley," Lynette answered.

"I'm not _quite_ sure what that means…" Yoshika added. "…but everything is okay here."

"Hmm…yeah. All right. Just checking." The redhead tried to shake off the feeling of foreboding in the back of her mind.

"Look, everyone. Maybe it's because of all the crap we've discovered, maybe it's because we're nearing the Orussian front, maybe it's something else entirely. But I'm definitely feeling edgy." Charlotte was all business now. "I want everyone on point. Eyes open, watch each others backs, understood?"

A chorus of "yes" and "yes, ma'am" followed on top of Yoshika's hearty shout of _"Ryoukai!"_. They flew on. By some unspoken agreement, there was no com chatter. The droning of their engines was the only sound accompanying them. After about 30 minutes of this, Bill spoke up.

"The silence is deafening," he quipped.

Charlotte's head jerked up involuntarily, her eyes opening wide with realization.

 _Silence!_ That was **_it_**. _That's_ what was different. She had grown used to the 'open carrier' sub-harmonic the MAGUS' threw off. It had become part of the background noise and — for the first time flying with them — she didn't hear/sense it.

"Mr. Mallory, I want you to do something for me. Remember that control block I showed you beneath the containment cage?"

"Yes ma'am," the young man answered confidently.

"In that bank of chips, there are two blue ones. Pull the far left one and reinsert it." She waited.

"Done," Vince reported back quickly.

"Nothing," Charlotte muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

She ran a dozen theories through her mind in the space of a few seconds. None of them had a favorable outcome. They were still about 140 air miles from the mainland, but they had been pacing a peninsular outcropping for the past 20 minutes that was significantly closer.

It was well off their filed flight plan but…

"Attention everyone," Charlotte suddenly ordered. "You are all to adjust course 27 degrees port. We are making an emergency landing."

"Cap?" Bill inquired.

"You three are to ground your units and evacuate the instant you're over land. Got it?"

"Aye, Captain," Hughes answered immediately. "Alright gentlemen, form up on me and let's juice it."

"All three MAGUS sub-harmonic fields are off-line," The Liberion commander explained. "I don't know what that means, but since it's new it can't be good. There is no way it's a random malfunction or coincidence," she concluded. "I need to look your suits over and until I do, I want you out of them. ASAP."

Not long before reaching land, an alarmed Vince Mallory called out to Charlotte over the com system. "Captain Yeager, I'm getting some red-zone activity on my starboard engine. The fuel mixture is leaning out. What should I do, ma'am?"

"Keep her steady, Mr. Mallory. Just keep heading for land. If you have to ditch in the water, we'll be there for you immediately."

Charlotte first thought was, _"_ _Oh great. What else could go wrong?_ _"_ As she began to mentally kick herself for inviting disaster, her ears were suddenly assailed by a familiar and dreaded sound. A Neuroi. A very large Neuroi, judging by the volume of the resonance she was hearing. " _Crap! Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap!_ "

"Shirley!" Francisca yelped in alarm.

"Yeah I know, I know!" Charlotte responded seriously. There was no running from it…not at this close range. The only option was to go on the offensive.

"Okay, people. It's go time. This is the real deal. As we discussed…MAGUS pilots you are on support, back up your team-mate. Miyafuji, Fiske, you're with me. Mister Mallory, you are covering Ensign Lucchini, Lieutenant Hughes, you are with Sergeant Bishop."

The Neuroi craft was now visible on the horizon and approaching fast.

"Look sharp, everyone. We are about to engage." Suddenly there was a strange 'womph' noise over the intercom. "Ah, damn!" Vince cried out as his engine suddenly seized. "My starboard engine is out, Captain."

"Ditch your unit, Mallory. Wait for us to clean up the little problem in front of us and we will be back to pick you up." Charlotte ordered.

"Sorry, Lucchini," Vince told her sadly.

"Not your fault Vince. Don't stress. We'll wrap this up in no time…then you'll owe me two," the fanged one chuckled.

Yoshika took lead, throwing up a huge shield to take the brunt of the Neuroi's attack as the others engaged the enemy with all the firepower they could muster. Corporal Fiske and Lieutenant Hughes raked the enemy craft with strafing fire, attempting to expose the core enough for one of the Witches to take it out.

They were working cohesively as a unit and they were steadily taking a toll on the Neuroi defenses. It was regenerating at a slower and slower rate. It was only a matter of a short time before they would have the thing beaten down completely.

Bill suddenly felt his MAGUS shudder slightly as the stick became sluggish and poorly responsive. This had happened before. A sharp smack to the control matrix had put it right in the past. He was about to strike the pesky piece of equipment when he suddenly heard…or maybe felt, an unfamiliar noise. A high-pitched keening that made his teeth ache.

"What's that noise?" Bill said over the open com channel.

Since she was coordinating the action, Charlotte's attention was split and it took an extra second for his words to process. She shifted her attention to the MAGUS pilot. "What are you hearing Corporal Fiske?"

"I dunno, really. Kind of…* _crackle_ *…and a weird…* _crackle_ *…gh-pitched…* _crackle_ *…kind of like a…* _crackle_ *…in the back…* _crackle_ * …and don't…* _crackle_ * …sponding prope…* _crackle_ *…"

"Fiske, I'm not reading you. Something is interfering with communications."

Suddenly she heard a new sound. There were now two additional Neuroi resonance patterns. One was directly in front of her — Fiske's MAGUS — the other was in the current location of the lieutenants unit. She watched as both MAGUS suits floundered about as if suddenly difficult to control. Charlotte's adrenaline spiked. What the _hell_? Why **now**?

"Corporal Fiske, respond! What's happening?" Through her headset came more static and beneath that, a strangled gargling sound and then silence. "Fiske! Come in! I'm not receiving you." A heavy foreboding filled Charlotte. "Bill! Talk to me. What's happening?"

Fiske's MAGUS stopped shuddering in place and began to fly towards the Neuroi attack craft once more. Charlotte gunned her engines and quickly caught up to Fiske's machine and flew alongside him. In the back of her mind, she wondered why the Neuroi craft had stopped firing at them.

Flipping on her back, she flew underneath the MAGUS Unit. Since radio communications were compromised, she needed to make visual contact with the pilot.

Through the faceplate, she could see a form that only vaguely resembled a person. A man-shaped amalgam of gray matter lacking any features, save for a mouth — opened in a permanent, soundless scream. Charlotte watched helplessly as the MAGUS pulsed with light and the man-formed shape disappeared… seemingly absorbed into the suit's structure as its form grew larger with accumulated mass.

She immediately realized where that extra mass had come from and had to repress the urge to throw up.

US Army Air Force Pilot Corporal William Fiske… was gone.

She swung her head around to find Lieutenant Hughes' armor just in time to see **it** shudder and flare, pulse and expand and she knew that Lieutenant Hughes was gone as well.

Charlotte Yeager normally had a good handle on her emotions, but this…this was just too much.

"You **ate** them!" she screamed to the empty sky in rage. "You! God! Dammed! Sons-of-bitches! You **fucking** _ **ate**_ them!"

The thing that was once Bill Fiske's MAGUS continued to accelerate towards the Neuroi 'mothership' but it could not hope to match Charlotte's speed. She took off after it like a bat out of Hell. Bill Fiske was a good man and had become a good friend. Charlotte would mourn his loss…later. Right now there was something that needed to be taken care of. She keyed her mic.

"Miyafuji, Bishop, Lucchini, listen to me. You need to trust me and do as I say." She gave them all a second to focus. "Bill and the lieutenant are dead. Their MAGUS Units have gone rogue. We need to take them out."

She was gratified to hear no questions or hesitation. Only a chorus of "Yes, ma'am!"

"Miyafuji, Bishop, you take the one at 10 o'clock. Lucchini, you're with me."

Lynette and Yoshika peeled off to their assigned target. Francisca opened throttle and headed for Charlotte's location. With heavy hearts, knowing that their friends had perished at the hands of the Neuroi, all four Witches converged upon and eliminated the former MAGUS Units with extreme prejudice. They then turned their attention to the Neuroi mothership, still advancing behind them.

Suddenly Charlotte's com crackled to life and she heard Vince's voice, full of enthusiasm, giving her a sit-rep. She spun around and watched in horror as the young southerner rose from the waves and raced to catch up with them.

"Ah got her workin', captain. Ah'll be right…* _crackle_ *…where'd…* _crackle_ *…ll and the Lieutenant go? Ah thought they…* _crackle_ *…* _crackle_ *…* _crackle_ *…"

"Mallory! Back off! D'ya hear me? Stand down! **Now**!" she yelled in vain. " _ **Mallory!**_ " The boy couldn't hear her through whatever interference the Neuroi was throwing off. The Liberion ace acted instantaneously. Flipping her vector, she charged straight at Vince's machine and, to Vince's confusion, slammed directly into it.

When it came to sheer muscle, Charlotte was no Gertrude Barkhorn. But she still possessed the enhanced strength common to all Witches. Grabbing the fuselage of Vince's unit with her bare hands, she exuded enough pressure to crumple the Grey Matter armor, succeeding in damaging the exhaust ports.

The engines choked out and she began to spin them both around as fast as she possibly could, just like she did when she performed the 'Fastball Special' with Francisca. She literally threw the young man toward the ground below, hoping that distance would lessen the influence of the Neuroi on the Core fragment.

"Miyafuji, you and Bishop get down there and see to his injuries," Charlotte ordered. "That isn't going to be the gentlest of landings."

Unfortunately, the Neuroi wasn't going to give her time to make sure everyone was okay. The Liberion ace sensed more than saw the Neuroi particle beam as it lanced out towards her. She threw herself forward and, as a result, the beam only glanced her back. She caught the smell of burnt leather and singed hair. A second blast nailed her left engine squarely and she plummeted trying to regain control.

 _"I_ _ **just**_ _fixed that, dammit."_

" **Shirley!** " Francisca hollered over her mike.

The young Witch watched helplessly as her mentor continued her uncontrolled descent. Vegetation geysered into the air as the Liberion ace hit the tree line. " **Shirley! Shirley!** "

There was no answer to her cries. Only a flare of light and a plume of thick gray smoke curling up into the sky.

" **NOOOO!** "

Francisca was too shaken up to think straight. This couldn't happen. Not to Shirley.

Shirley was the one she looked up to. Shirley was the one who was patient with her. Shirley was the one who understood her, the one who showed her that she could turn all of her minuses into pluses. Shirley… Shirley was the person she **loved**!

The tiny terror spun around and glared in hatred at the bloated tic-like shape of the Neuroi craft. Her whole body trembled with the accumulated rage, fear, and frustration she was feeling. A blood-red haze clouded her vision and her Strikers screamed in protest as she accelerated full-throttle towards the alien.

 _— — —  
Charlotte was able to control the profile of her shield, to a certain extent. She could bend the leading edges of her shield back to streamline her flight profile. She had decided to try and teach Francesca how to do the same. She had been surprised and pleased to find that, not only could the little Romagnan mimic her ability, but was able to take it leagues further. Francesca's control was much more granular. She could form her shield into any shape she could imagine, as well as vary its thickness and density._

As Francesca charged the Neuroi mother ship she manifested her shield and willed it into the shape of a gigantic wedge — only millimeters thick at the leading edge but as hard as diamond.

Pushing it ahead of her, she slammed it into the Neuroi craft, sinking the edge deep into the skin of the ship. The energy construct then shimmered as it was reformed into two intersecting planes connected by a fulcrum. With every single bit of her will, fueled by her out-of-control emotions, she applied pressure. The Neuroi craft split open like an overripe melon.

It began to regenerate almost immediately, but the Core was nakedly exposed. With an inarticulate scream, the tiny Romagnan ace unloaded a full clip at the Neuroi Core, shattering it where it floated. Replacing the exhausted clip with a fresh one she let go with another salvo. The remaining shards were also reduced to their basic components… a glittering trail of pixie dust. The Grey Matter making up the ship itself also began to dissolve, now lacking the guiding intelligence that allowed it to cohere in the first place.

Just that quickly, it was gone. Francesca hovered there, still pulling the trigger, even though she had expended all of her ammo. The barrel of the rifle was so hot there were flames on the tip. The little ace lost her breath as her body convulsed with sobs, crying so hard she couldn't hear the pained voice that came over her headset.

"Lucchini, I'm all right. Lucchini?"

All the young pilot could hear was her own ragged breathing and cries of despair.

" **Francesca! Focus!"**

Her sobs caught in her throat. "Sh-shirley?" she questioned in disbelief. "You're okay? You're really okay?"

Charlotte grunted in pain. "Yeah, well, you know…my right arm's broken. And I *yii* probably have a couple of broken ribs, too. Nothing too bad." She gave an annoyed sigh. "My port engine's hash. That kinda pisses me off."

Francisca laughed, relieved to hear the older girl's flippant attitude again. But the laughter soon dissolved into choking sobs once more.

"I-I-I thought…thought…you died Shirley. I thought you _**died**_ _ **!**_ I…I…I…" she gasped for breath. "You **can't** die! You can't **leave** me, Shirley. Not **ever**! **You can't! You can't!** _ **You can't!**_ "

Charlotte was overcome by the raw emotions spilling out of the tiny troublemaker. "I-I'm…Lucchini, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you like that. Honestly."

Over their radio link, Charlotte heard Francesca's breathing start to normalize. Another pained yelp escaped her. "We can't gotta mean it 'cause the larks are still there."

Francesca blinked in confusion. "… What?"

"Uhhh. I-I gotta… sit down for a minute." Charlotte answered shakily.

"What's the matter?" Francesca questioned desperately. Her panic grew when she didn't receive a response. "Shirley, what's wrong?" Nothing but silence answered. Gunning her Strikers, she headed back towards the atoll.

" _Please, God._ _Oh please please please please please let her be okay."_


	11. Those Who Matter Most

****A/N:**** Welcome back. Please enjoy this chapter. ** **  
****

"Strike Witches hajimeru yo!"

 **Those Who Matter Most**

* * *

 **- _September 27, 1943  
_ _-_ _Unidentified atoll in Orussian Territory_**

Yoshika and Lynette were en route to the location where Vince Mallory had been unceremoniously tossed. Since they were all on the common frequency, they heard the entire exchange between Charlotte and Francesca. They felt overwhelming relief when they heard that Charlotte had survived the crash. And Yoshika couldn't help but smile when she heard Francesca break down and reveal her feelings to her partner.

" _Good for you, Lucchini-chan! It's about time you were honest with your feelings. Although I guess I shouldn't be one to say that, considering,_ " she thought, sparing a quick glance at her own love.

What the Fuso pilot heard next, however, filled her with dread. Charlotte's nonsensical reply to — and then failure to respond to — Francesca told her all she needed to know.

"Lynne, we need to get to Shirley-san right away," Yoshika stated firmly.

"Eh?" Lynette responded. "But what about Vincent?"

"Mallory-kun will just have to wait." the aspiring physician replied. "Did you hear Shirley-san's reply just then? Most likely she has a severe concussion. If I don't treat her immediately she will probably die."

Lynette hesitated for the briefest of moments then simply said, "Alright."

"It'll be fine. Mallory-kun probably hit hard, but he's protected by his flight harness and he's surrounded by armor-plating," Yoshika reasoned, half trying to convince _herself_ that this was the right decision, as well. "Battlefield triage consists of treating the life-threatening injuries over severe physical injuries. Please trust me. I know what I'm doing."

"I do trust you, Yoshika," Lynne told her with conviction. "I'm behind you all the way." The two then banked away from the shoreline and inward toward the hilly, forested center of the atoll.

* * *

Francesca didn't concern herself with the niceties of landing. She disengaged her Strikers a full 20 feet before touchdown. She hit the ground running, frantic to seek out Charlotte. The discarded Strikers crashed loudly behind her, unnoticed.

Following the trail of destroyed vegetation, she soon came upon a clearing and saw Charlotte lying unconscious on the ground. Yoshika was kneeling over the downed ace, a bright bluish-white dome of energy surrounding them both. Francesca was literally tripping over herself in her haste to be at Charlotte's side.

The tears she had been holding back only partially began again full force. "Oh my god! **Shirley**."

Lynne intercepted Francesca before the young girl could throw herself into the middle of things, and held the tiny Romagnan tightly as she struggled to get free. " **NO! NOOO!** **Let me go let me go let me go!** "

However, Lynne continued holding Francesca in place and soon the tiny ensign's struggles grew weaker. She was both emotionally and physically drained from everything that had taken place over the past 20 minutes. Her legs were shaking as she slowly slid to the ground in exhaustion.

"Please Lynne," she whined. "I need to be with her…"

"Everything is going to be alright, Francesca. I promise you," the older girl assured her. "Yoshika told me we reached her in time. We need to let her work. Just have a little faith, okay?"

It wasn't very long at all until the glow from Yoshika's magic began to recede, drawn back into its tiny brown-haired source. Francesca perked up when she heard her partners voice.

"Whoa! Did someone get the number of that truck?" Charlotte asked.

Yoshika was concerned for an instant. Did she not heal Charlotte properly? The Liberion ace noticed the look of confusion on the younger girl's face. "You know. The one that ran over me." She grinned.

"Shirley-san!" Yoshika scolded her. "Don't joke about it. You were seriously hurt. How do you feel?"

"Slight headache. And, of course, my arm and ribs ache a bit. But overall? Yeah, I'm feeling pretty good."

Yoshika breathed a sigh of relief. "Yokatta."

She looked back at her squad-mates, motioning them to come over. The two girls stood up and moved closer. Francesca appeared almost timid as she shuffled over to Charlotte's side. Her eyes were downcast and she could barely bring herself to meet the older girl's gaze. Her bottom lip began to quiver. Charlotte's expression melted into a sad, soft smile. She spread her arms open toward Francesca, inviting her in. "C'mere, kiddo."

Once more the dam burst as Francesca threw herself into Charlotte's arms, soaking the girl's shirt with her tears. Charlotte simply held her gently, petting her head. "It's okay, Lucchini. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

Yoshika smiled in satisfaction as she watched the tender scene unfolding in front of her and stepped back. Turning to Lynette, she motioned towards the two. "Lynne, help Lucchini-chan get Shirley-san down to the beachhead, okay? I'm going on ahead to take care of Mallory-kun."

"Yoshika, wait…" Lynne called out, but it was too late. The tiny brunette had already disappeared into the bushy undergrowth. She started to follow but then stopped to look back at her squad-mates and felt as though she were frozen in place. Her head involuntarily swung back to the spot where Yoshika vanished and back again to Charlotte and Francesca — torn between what she _wanted_ to do and what she felt she _should_ do. She was a bit irritated for a second…not with Yoshika, really, but with herself for her inability to be decisive.

"Go with her, Lynne," Charlotte said.

"But…" Lynette hesitated.

"We can make it on our own. You'd be more useful to Yoshika than to us," Charlotte assured her. Lynette's uncertain expression didn't disappear. "You want to be the one who supports her, right?"

"But…" Lynne repeated.

"Go!" Charlotte interrupted. "That's an order."

Lynette smiled in gratitude. "Thank you, Shirley."

With that, she dashed into the underbrush, following Yoshika's trail. After she was out of sight, Charlotte slumped back to a prone position. "We'll just stay here for a bit until I feel up to walking, okay kiddo?" Francesca raised her tear-stained face and scrutinized Charlotte's apparent condition, then quietly nodded her head in agreement, tucking back into Charlotte's shoulder.

* * *

Luckily, Yoshika had a good head for bearings. She came crashing out of the brush into a clearing about 50 yards from her objective. Mallory's MAGUS was lying near the center of the open area. Since the seal was unopened and Vince himself was nowhere to be seen, it stood to reason that he was still inside. Looking through the visor, she saw him unconscious, still strapped into the flight harness. She pounded on the outer casing of the suit, trying to get a response from the young pilot.

She knew how to work the seal to open the armor, having seen all three pilots do it numerous times. However, for some reason, it didn't want to cooperate with her. No amount of force or cajoling would coax it to yield.

She invoked her magic and expanded her awareness until she was able to sense Vince. Unlike the usual clarity she experienced when she focused on a patient, Vince's presence was muddied and blurred. He was alive, but that was about all she could ascertain. She snorted in frustration.

Yoshika reasoned that the Grey Matter must be causing the interference in her magical senses. She couldn't open the suit and Vince couldn't open it for her, leaving her with no real options. Maybe she could force her way through.

Shutting everything else out, the tiny healer leaned forward and placed her palms into direct contact with the armor and pushed with all of her willpower. There was some small resistance and then contact.

Vince was unconscious but, unlike Charlotte, the rough landing hadn't caused any severe head trauma, just a few broken bones — probably from the force of impact when he hit the ground. The slight amount of internal bleeding she found would be from the same cause.

It was hard pushing through the interference. Yoshika had to devote all of her concentration to focus her magic where it was needed, pouring more and more of herself into the process. She first stopped the internal hemorrhaging and then went to work knitting the broken bones. She had already exerted herself quite a bit in healing Charlotte, so this extra effort was affecting her more than it usually would.

Time seemed to distort in Yoshika's mind. It felt as if she had been at it for hours. As fatigue began to catch up to her, her focus began to drift and the image of Mallory in her mind was superimposed by something else. As she focused on this new image, it suddenly sharpened into clarity.

A glittering, many-faceted red crystal filled her vision, spinning slowly around and around. It was so beautiful. An almost narcotic sensation of peace and pleasure flooded her body. It was singing to her, not in words but in tones. Music of the Spheres…a melody so peaceful, so soothing, that she could do nothing but allow it to fill her thoughts.

Devoting all of herself to gazing at the slowly spinning crystal that existed only in her mind, she trembled uncontrollably as every sparkling light shot waves of pleasure directly through her spine and in rippling waves throughout her body. Sharp pinpricks of pain drilled through her fingers and palms but the pain never registered — wiped out by the ever-increasing stimulation of her brain's pleasure centers. The pain felt so **_good_**. She wanted more.

Yoshika knew that if she just listened to **~ it ~** the music — if she just gave herself to **~ it ~** the glittering lights — she could feel **~ it ~** this beautiful pain for eternity. The sharp stings and aching pain began to move up her arms and shoulders. Panic jarred her for the briefest of instants but was crushed completely as **~ it ~** the jeweled image grew larger and **~ it ~** the beautiful music grew louder in her mind.

 **~ it ~** spoke to her through the music and she understood **~ it ~** she knew **~ it ~** wanted her to become a part of **~ it ~** willingly she opened her mind so she could hear **~ it ~** more clearly **~ surrender ~**

Yoshika obeyed and her obedience was rewarded as pure bliss and unimaginable sybaritic pleasure flooded her body and drove away her conscious thoughts. The abyss opened and she fell into the darkness.

Falling felt like flying…

* * *

Charlotte had quickly become restless and, as soon as she was sure she could walk more than 20 steps without pitching forward on her face, she was up and mobile. She and Francesca slowly made their way to the clearing where she had thrown Mallory earlier. Her mood was grim. Everything had been going so well. Even with the incredibly difficult set of circumstances they had been dealt, they had been optimistic that, together, they could overcome everything. And in less time than it takes to boil a kettle of water, it had all come crashing down.

Even though it was unforeseen, even though it wasn't her fault, Charlotte cursed herself. She had promised the guys that she would protect them… that she would save them.

She had failed.

That failure ate at her soul. The lieutenant was a good man. And Bill…in the scant month they had spent together, they had become quite close. She had never harbored romantic feelings towards him. She didn't imagine that she ever would have. They were too much alike, for one thing. But she suspected that, had he lived, they most likely would have become the best of friends.

She hoped she had at least saved Vince. But, if he were still alive, she knew she would have to face him. She would have to tell him that her failure to properly lead had caused the death of the man he looked up to as an older brother. And the man who had taken him in when he had nowhere else to go.

Her brows knit in anger. Maloney! Even though he was only a piece of a larger puzzle, he was the most tangible target for her hate. She was overcome with an urge to get her hands around his throat and give him the ending that a misogynistic piece of garbage like himself deserved. She knew those thoughts could lead her to a place of darkness from which she might never return. But, at the moment, she honestly didn't give a damn.

Francesca immediately picked up on her partner's black mood. "What'cha thinkin' about, Shirley?"

The redhead wasn't about to tell the younger girl that she was seriously harboring thoughts of murder, no matter how justified she felt she was. Instead, she gave her junior a somewhat edited version of where her thoughts were leading her.

"I'm thinking about what our next move should be. It's going to be difficult for all of us to continue. I only have one engine and obviously, even if Mallory's suit is still operational, I won't allow him to use it. Although I doubt that will be a problem with him, once he learns about Bill and the lieutenant."

She paused for a moment, favoring Francesca with an appraising glance. The tiny ensign was puzzled by the way Charlotte was looking at her.

"Vince is gonna be devastated when he finds out they're dead," Charlotte advised. "He's going to need a friend and he will probably turn to you for emotional support. You two seem to have become close, am I right?"

"Yeah, we have," Francesca replied. "He's a really good person."

The little Romagnan thought back to their final night at Mildenhall. Yoshika and Lynne were off in their own little world. Charlotte, Corporal Fiske and the Lieutenant were out doing grown-up stuff (in other words, hanging out at a local pub). So it was just the two of them spending time together, talking about their lives and experiences.

Their upbringing had been so different. Francesca came from a very large and loving family and grew up in a metropolitan city — one of the world's major capitals — whereas Vincent was an only child who had been raised in a sparsely populated and poverty-ridden area. He explained to her why he had been disowned by his father and enlisted early.

Francesca had been incensed at the way he had been treated and was surprised when she found out that, while it had saddened him greatly, Vince didn't hold a grudge or feel anger toward his father.

 _"Just 'cause sumthin' becomes legal don't mean ever'body's gonna accept it. Ah think a lotta that comes from a lack a' education. Where ah grew up, most folks don' even finish high school. Soon as yer old enough ta work, tha's what ya do. Ain't their fault. That's jus' how it is._

 _Ah mean, look at me. I know I don't speak proper. It's real embarrassin' ta me sometimes. Ah'm tryin' ta do better… don't think ah'll ever talk as slick as Bill does, though. Y'know, ah never had a real big brother, but if ah did, he could never be better ta me than Bill is. Ah really do wanna become someone he can be proud of, ya know?"_

Yes, Francesca knew, Vince **_was_** going to be devastated by deaths of his friends. _More_ than friends, she realized. They had become family to him. She didn't know what she could do for him, but she knew she would do all that she could.

* * *

Lynette finally caught up to her impulsive lover. Although she had gotten a bit turned around, the obvious signs of Yoshika's powers in use were easy to spot, especially now that the sun was beginning to fall lower in the sky. She came upon the clearing to find the Fuso healer kneeling over Vince's fallen machine, fully engaged in a healing trance. She allowed herself to catch her breath before walking closer.

As she approached the two, it felt as if something were off. Yoshika's stance was rigid. Her breath came in ragged gasps and she was trembling fiercely. Lynette was concerned since she had seen Yoshika perform her healing arts on many occasions and even the worst injury she had treated had never brought her to this level of exertion before.

Unsure of whether or not she should intervene, she was jarred from her uncertainty by the sight that greeted her when she moved to stand next to the younger girl. Yoshika's hands and forearms were covered by Grey Matter. It looked as if her hands had become fused with the suit itself and the alien matter was slowly moving upward to as if trying to consume her whole body.

" **Yoshika. Yoshika!** " Lynne cried out. " **Your hands!** "

Lynne's voice cut through the fog clouding Yoshika's perceptions and loosened the grip the alien intelligence had gained on her mind. Like a drowning person reaching for a life preserver, the Fuso maiden struggled to place the voice.

 _"_ _L-Lynne?_ _"_

The struggle for awareness was like swimming through quicksand. She felt exhausted and the Neuroi influence threatened to pull her in again, but she focused on one thing — only one thing — Lynette's voice. Lynette was there and Yoshika needed to return to her… needed her… more than she needed peace or pleasure or bliss or pain.

Lynette was her life, the person she had pledged herself to forever. She didn't understand what was happening to her, she didn't know where she was, but she knew she needed to get back to Lynne somehow. She blinked groggily as awareness slowly returned to her. The first sight that greeted her didn't make sense. She blinked again, trying to clear her hazy mind. _Something was wrong. Why were her hands… … …?_

Becoming fully aware, she let out an ear-shattering scream.

At that same instant, her body emitted an intense flare of pure white light and Lynette, caught unprepared for the reaction, was temporarily blinded by the flash. Falling to the ground in reflex, she rubbed at her eyes, trying to restore her lost vision. Slowly, the milky-white haze began to fade and the she began seeing spots…retinal after-images that slowly began to fade as well.

The first thing Lynette saw were the remains of the MAGUS. Mallory was still strapped into the flight harness, which was now exposed, hanging from the articulated frame skeleton that was the structural support for the suit. The Grey Matter had evaporated and the pixie-dust trail from the Core fragment had almost faded away into nothingness. But where was Yoshika?

The Britannian pilot frantically scanned her surroundings, but could not find a trace of her most important person. Then she heard it… broken sobbing and whimpering from only a few yards away. Diving into the underbrush, she saw Yoshika's seifuku lying on the ground, torn to shreds.

Soon she found the tiny brunette, her body curled up upon herself, wedged into the deep bole of a tree, frantically clawing at her arms and torso, digging her fingernails deep into bare flesh, causing gouts of blood to run in rivers. Lynne was horrified by the sight.

"gekitai… gekitai… gekitaishiro… iyada yamete yametekudasai yamete" the terrified girl mumbled over and over, her eyes wide open but unseeing. "tasuketekudasai… yamero… yamero…"

The panic and terror etched on the face of the younger girl hit Lynette like a physical blow.

Falling to her knees, Lynette gathered the panic-stricken girl in her arms and took firm hold of hands, trying to prevent the terrified girl from injuring herself further. Yoshika struggled against her grasp in mindless fright, drenching them both in her blood. Lynne was unsure as to what exactly had happened but she had never imagined that she would ever see her precious love so distraught. So afraid.

Trembling as if caught in an arctic wind she collapsed into Lynne's arms. The honey-brown haired beauty began to gently rock Yoshika, trying in vain to calm her down.

"iyada… iyada… **yamero! yamero! yamero!** "

"Yoshika. I can't understand what you're saying. You need to speak Britannish."

Yoshika's small body was wracked with violent sobs as she gasped for breath.

"mada… mada… kanjirareteru… uyo-uyo… karada no naka… kokoro no naka… soushite… watashi… kore **ga hoshiikatta** … jitai no naka… yame… yame.. yamerarenakatta… yamesasenakatta… yametanakatta… watashi… watashi **datte** … ah rin… tasukete… tasukete… onegai… tasuketekudasai…"

[ _i can… i can… still feel it… crawling… inside my body… inside my mind… and… i…i…i…_ **wanted** _it… inside me… i couldn't… i couldn't… stop… it wouldn't let me… i didn't want to… to.. to.. i_ **didn't** _… oh lynne… help… help me… please…_ ]

Lynette understood very few words of Fusogo. But she recognized 'Rin.' That was how Yoshika had pronounced her name for the first few weeks after her arrival to Britannia. The clever girl had quickly adapted, even though the hard 'L' sound was foreign to her native language.

It had made Lynne quiver when Yoshika called her ' _Rin-chan'_ in her cute, high-pitched voice. But now it alarmed her. It seemed to her as if Yoshika were mentally regressing.

"Yoshika, can you hear me? Can you understand me?"

"rin?"

Yoshika's voice was so weak. Barely a whisper. Lynette had to strain to hear her at all.

" **Yes!** Yes, I'm here. I'm right here, baby," Lynne reassured her.

"… rin?… where are you… please find me… please don't leave me alone… please don't… please… gomenasai… gomenasai… i'm… a weak person… worthless… dirty… gomenasai gomenasai gomenasai…"

" **No**! Yoshika, **no**! What are you saying? What **happened** to you?"

The Fuso maiden's lips were mouthing words but no sound came out. Lynne suddenly felt the small girl go completely limp in her arms. Thinking that Yoshika had passed out, she laid her down on the ground but then saw that her sweetheart's eyes were still open, looking directly at her. It was obvious that nothing was registering. Yoshika was looking right through her.

Remembering a film she saw in basic training about battlefield trauma, Lynette recognized the warning signs of hysterical blindness. Yoshika was now in a semi-catatonic state. The older girl understood that whatever had happened, whatever that **_thing_** had done, it had been so completely overwhelming for Yoshika that her mind had simply shut down.

Lynne didn't know what to do. She wished Shirley were here. She would know what to do. " _No,_ " she thought resolutely. " _Shirley isn't here. She's hurt too. I have to do this. I can do this._ " Determination gripped her. " _I_ ** _will_** _do this._ "

She needed to stop the bleeding first. That was the most important thing. Getting up off the ground where she had been kneeling, Lynette first went and retrieved Yoshika's tattered uniform top, then removed her own. For the second time on this journey, she used scraps of cloth as bandages and tried her best to care for her injured love.

She wanted to cry, seeing the damage the little Fuso girl had inflicted upon herself. It was much worse than she had initially thought. Yoshika's delicate skin had been torn to ribbons. In some places, especially on her arms, she had clawed through muscle tissue, as if trying to dig something out of her body. These were not scratches. They were deep, serious wounds. Lynne tried to keep a tight rein on her emotions as she worked but seeing Yoshika in this condition…

 _"Oh, Yoshika. What did it do to you? Why are you like this?"_

Yoshika was the strongest person she had ever met. No matter how dark things got, no matter the odds they faced, she never gave up, never stopped trying. Now that bright soul had been dimmed almost to nonexistence, guttering like a candle in the wind. Lynette felt despair begin to take hold in her heart.

"lynne? is it really you? are you really here? where are you? i can't see you. nothing feels real."

"You're going to be okay. Everything will be okay. You killed it, Yoshika! You killed it. It's gone."

"don't touch me… please… i'm dirty… i'm tainted… i didn't want to but maybe… maybe i did… what does that say about me… that i'm weak… that i'm a bad person… part of me… was screaming the whole time… but… part of me… w-w-wanted it to…"

Lynette reeled as memories forcibly repressed came screaming out of her subconscious. _'_ _i'm dirty… i'm tainted…'_

 _— —  
She had just turned 11 the first time it had happened. Her mother had been dead for over a year and her father… something about the way he had been acting around her… had been making her feel uncomfortable for some time now._

 _One night, long after the servants retired for the evening, the door to her bedroom opened…_

 _She remembered standing in the shower for hours afterward. The water had long since run cold and she stood shivering under the frigid torrent. No matter how much she scrubbed, she couldn't get clean. She remembered something else, too._

 _As much as she had hated her father for doing that to her, she had despised_ ** _herself_** _for the way her body had betrayed her at the end._

Lynette understood now _exactly_ what the Neuroi had done to her love. It may not have been of the exact same physical sexual nature, but Yoshika had been brutally raped by the vile creature, her body and her mind both forcibly violated. And, from what she had pieced together out of Yoshika's fevered ravings, this had been much worse.

Lynette fought to stay strong, but now that the memories had been released she couldn't escape them. There was her father, reminding her of how weak she was… how pathetic…

* * *

"We'll be okay, though, right Shirley? I mean, when we don't show up at Riga they'll send out a search and rescue team won't they?" Francesca reasoned, trying to lift Charlotte's spirits.

The Liberion's frown seemed to grow even deeper if that were possible. "We can't be sure of that. We no longer know who our allies are. This cabal seems to have infiltrated everywhere. Liberion. Afrika. Karlsland. I'm certain the MAGUS suits were sabotaged in Copenhagen. If anyone does show up, they could be just as likely to kill us as to save us."

That put a damper on Francesca's attempt at optimism. She hadn't thought of that. It was true. They couldn't tell friend from enemy.

She tried to renew her positive attitude. "But still… Ursula must have made it to Capel-le-Ferne. Commander Wilcke and the rest of the 501st…they'll come to our rescue. We'll be okay, Shirley. I just _know_ we will."

Charlotte was about to retort. It had only been four days since they had parted company. Even at top speed, it would have taken Ursula at least 10 hours of straight flying to reach Britannia from Amsterdam, which would be physically impossible. She would have needed to take some time to clandestinely rest and eat somehow along the way. The plan had been that Minna would contact any higher-ups she _knew_ they could still trust and try to stop the MAGI program through official channels. That, itself, would take some time, even if everything had gone smoothly and Minna took immediate action. And she wouldn't know to come here or that they were in any immediate danger.

She was _about_ to tell Francesca this, but when she looked down and saw her 'little sis' staring at her with anxious optimism, she mentally slapped herself. What was she doing? Francesca was trying her best to boost her morale and all she was doing was putting a damper on those attempts.

Instead, she smiled encouragingly. "You're right, kiddo! Shouldn't give up that easily, right? Sorry for bringing you down like that."

"That's okay, Shirley," Francesca replied brightly. "I understand. A lot of stuff happened that would bring anybody down. But don't worry. I'm sure Vince is alright, and as long as we're all together everything will be…"

 **"Eeeeeeeee yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaa aaaaaaaa aaaaaaa!"**

The two looked at each other in shock.

"Miyafuji?"

"That was Yoshika!" the tiny ensign confirmed.

Charlotte threw her arm around Francesca's shoulder for support and the two began hobbling as fast as they could toward the sound of that blood-curdling scream. After what felt like an eternity had passed, they finally reached the clearing where Vince's MAGUS had crashed.

The bizarre sight made them stop short. The young man was hanging suspended in the bare skeletal framework of the destroyed battle suit. A semi-circular patch of scorched grass surrounded the otherwise empty clearing. Neither Yoshika or Lynne were anywhere in sight.

 _"What the hell_ ** _happened_** _here?"_ Charlotte wondered.

Both girls rushed over to the unconscious pilot's side. Charlotte placed two fingers against the boy's neck and felt a strong pulse. She sighed in relief. Now her immediate concern was Yoshika.

Francesca's sharp eyes spotted broken branches and displaced vegetation on the far side of the clearing. She tapped Charlotte on the shoulder and pointed. "Shirley. Look! Over there."

Wading into the thick brush, they soon found their two missing companions lying on the ground, Yoshika swathed in blood-soaked cloth and Lynette, body covered in dried blood, cradling the younger girl in her arms.

"Jesus **_Christ_**!" Charlotte blurted out as she rushed to the girls' sides.

Lynette slowly lifted her head at the sound of Charlotte's alarmed cry, looking up at her elder with red, swollen, empty eyes. She then lay her head back down in the dirt next to Yoshika own with a haunted expression. Even worse, Yoshika's eyes were open but the small girl didn't react at all. Staring at nothing with a fixed, blank gaze and dilated pupils. Taking all that into account, along with Lynette's current state, she could only draw one conclusion.

Yoshika was dead.

Captain Charlotte Yeager — speedster, adventurer, frontier-blazer, war hero — simply couldn't take any more. She fell down on all fours. There were no words to describe the mixture of anger, despair, and defeat she now felt. She began pounding the ground with her fist.

 **"Goddammit! Goddammit! Goddammit! Goddammit!"**

Francesca looked closer, however. Yoshika was breathing shallowly. Her lips were moving slightly.

"Shirley. Yoshika's not dead. Look," she begged. " **Please** look."

Francesca's words had the desired effect. Shirley stopped her tirade and took a closer look at the girl. It was true. She **was** alive. There was still hope. Remaining on all fours, she crawled over to the two girls and reached out to them. Lynette's reaction was immediate.

 **"Don't touch her!"** she screamed.

Tightening her protective hold on Yoshika, the honey-brown haired beauty moved to block Charlotte from coming any closer, with her own body. Charlotte was taken aback by the seething anger expressed on the girl's usually placid face.

"It's okay, Lynne. I won't touch her." Charlotte responded in a soothing voice. She knew that Lynne's outburst wasn't directed at her, necessarily. She understood that the young Britannian pilot was overwrought. Moving in a non-threatening manner, she sat back on her haunches and tried a different tact.

"Lynne," she began in a quiet voice. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Lynette was silent for a long moment as if trying to recall the sequence of events.

"She… *sniff* I'm… I'm not quite sure what happened. She was trying to heal Pilot Mallory when I found her. *sniff* And… and… and she… the suit was trying to… consume her."

She shut her eyes tightly, trying to drive the sight out of her memory.

"The armor was… growing… on her body. Her hands and arms were covered… I… called out to her and she… it was spreading so quickly… and I just **watched**. I didn't know how to stop it. **I** **just watched! I** ** _let_** **it happen!** "

"When she f-f-finally came out of her healing trance, she screamed. Her magic exploded from her body. I was blinded by it. When I could see again, the MAGUS was destroyed and Yoshika was…Yoshika was…"

She began crying softly and turned away from Charlotte and Francesca, resting her head back down next to Yoshika's own. Gently, she stroked her girlfriend's hair as she whispered to her.

"Oh, my sweet baby… I'm so sorry… I couldn't help you… I'm so sorry… I'm so sorry…"

Charlotte sighed in resignation. She knew she wouldn't be getting any more information out of Lynette for a while. She was concerned about Yoshika's physical and mental state — not to mention Lynne's own mental state. But, for now she decided to leave it alone. Both girls had obviously been through Hell, and as long as Yoshika was alive, they could deal with the rest later.

These two were of no use right now. It was best, she decided, to leave Yoshika in Lynne's care. Careful not to make any sudden movement, the redheaded ace stood up slowly.

"Lynne? We're going to go check on Mallory. We'll be back soon. Will you take care of Yoshika for a while? "

Lynette didn't respond or even seem to acknowledge her presence at all. Charlotte gave Francesca a helpless look and nodded her head in the direction of the clearing. Francesca silently acknowledged her, and they left the two alone.

* * *

After taking a few large gulps from her canteen, Charlotte sat down at the base of a large tree on the edge of the clearing, leaning back against the broad trunk. Collecting her thoughts, she started forming a plan of action. For long moments there was silence. Francesca waited as patiently as was possible for her, content to sit back and observe as Shirley had another one of her 'Eureka' moments.

"Okay, first off kiddo, I want you to go get your Strikers and then collect everyone else's, as well as their weaponry, and bring them here. Retrieve Merlin for me first, though," she ordered, trying to picture in her mind the amount of damage the Neuroi's attack had inflicted on the left leg unit. "Maybe I can fix him. Gotta try."

Regarding her young partner seriously, she continued. "I want you to try to stay under cover as much as possible since we don't know who's coming or when. But I'm sure that someone _will_ be, probably within the next two to four hours. I'll stay here until Mallory wakes up. I want to be the one who tells him about Bill and the lieutenant. As his commanding officer, I owe him that much, at least."

"You got it, Shirley," Francesca acknowledged.

"Once we have everything together, we're going to find a more concealed and defensible position. In the meantime, while you're gone, I'm going to take stock of our supplies and weapons. Mallory was carrying a full rack, and if we happen to have to go up against those MAGI, I want to have some big guns, like that HS.404 Autocannon ready and waiting."

Francesca gave a startled glance. "Wait. **What**? We have to fight those insane kill-bots?"

"Seems to be the most likely scenario to me," Charlotte explained. "This organization knows we're on to them. I'm positive that the MAGUS Units were sabotaged. I had already figured out that sub-harmonic cloak was exactly what it said on the tin. Designed to hide the Core fragments presence from the Neuroi."

"I imagine they hoped that the Neuroi would find us and take us out. Not sure if they knew the fragments would regain their sentience. Probably not. They just didn't want to get their hands dirty. A dick move like that sounds just like something General Baloney would come up with. Asshole."

"Indeed," Francesca responded, using one of Charlotte's patented lines. "So, basically… collect all our stuff, don't get spotted by brain-in-a-jar death machines. Got it. Piece of cake."

Charlotte regarded her with a raised eyebrow and a smile curling at the corner of her mouth. "You've been hanging around me too much, kiddo. I'm starting to rub off on you."

"You say that like it's a _bad_ thing," Francesca chortled and spun in a circle with her arms, out airplane-style, stopped and gave a quick wave. "Be right back."

"Hang on a second," Charlotte called out. She removed her flight jacket and tossed it. "Give that to Lynne on your way. If she's still zoned out, just drape it over her."

"Roger," Francesca replied and scampered off.

Now alone, Charlotte turned to regard her surroundings. Hands on her hips, she pursed her lips and blew an errant strand of hair out of her face.

 _"Okay Glamorous Shirley, let's get this done. Failure is not an option."_


	12. In This Bittersweet Now

****A/N:**** Welcome back. Please enjoy this chapter. ** **  
****

"Strike Witches hajimeru yo!"

 **In This Bittersweet Now**

* * *

" _Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage." ~_ Lao Tzu

 ** _\- September 27, 1943  
\- 501st JFW — Onboard Flying Fortress AE-710  
\- Crossing Karlsland Airspace_**

The overall mood was pretty tense in the spacious hold of the immense airship. Everyone there knew that this wasn't going to be a typical battle. In this instance, if there were action it was going involve not alien invaders, but members of the very same military organization they, themselves, belonged to. Ultimately, though, that didn't matter. Their friends were in danger and they were going to save them.

Two days earlier, life had been normal. There had been no Neuroi incursions, so their duty was light, even though they were temporarily short four members. Even though some of them felt a tiny amount of envy of their missing comrades for what was essentially a paid vacation, they all appreciated this lull in combat to relax and recharge. However, in the wee hours of the morning on the 25th, Minna Wilcke left the base accompanied by Erica Hartmann.

— —  
 _After leaving Amsterdam, Ursula Hartmann had realized she could use a third, much quicker and safer, option to contact Minna Wilcke. Reasoning that she would never reach Britannia before their enemy figured out her destination, she had doubled-back after passing the North Sea Canal and landed at a farm in rural Aalsmeer — about 50 klicks south of Amsterdam. She knew the owners of the farm quite well, childhood friends of her mother, whom she had last seen at her mother's funeral a little over a year earlier. They were trustworthy and, more importantly, they were_ _ **civilian**_ _._

 _At Ursula's request, Dame Dana VanHedren made an innocent phone call to Capel-le-Ferne to catch up on things with her late friend's daughter. Without rousing suspicion, VanHedren was able to instruct Erica to get Commander Wilcke off-base to a private phone somewhere. Which she did. Minna trusted Erica and Erica trusted Ursula, so there was no need of convincing. The Strike Witches commander listened intently as Ursula related the findings of both herself and Charlotte Yeager._

 _Late afternoon on the_ _25th,_ _Minna Wilcke scheduled a meeting with the highest-ranking official she truly believed she could trust, a man who, although she had not known for long, she felt was the most unlikely to be compromised and most able to give them the help they needed._

 _When the meeting ended, she returned to Capel-le-Ferne and called the squadron together, telling the assembled Witches about the conspiracy that threatened to undermine everything they risked their lives for daily… and informing them that their four absent friends may be directly in the heart of it._

It was now midday on the 27th. Earlier that morning they had received the go-ahead from General Briggs and they were now en route directly to Riga where, Minna suspected, Charlotte would need help. She understood from Ursula that Charlotte had promised to protect the MAGUS pilots in the event the program could not be halted by official means. She knew Shirley wouldn't give up those boys without a fight. The squadron would be heavily outnumbered. And, depending upon the allegiance of whoever was in command at Riga, they may even be treated as enemy combatants.

Soon they would be landing in Hamburg to refuel and then spend another six to seven hours in the air until they reached Tansaffal Airbase in Riga. Minna bounced the heel of her foot against the deck of the hold unconsciously while she tried to lay out as many scenarios as possible in her mind. Mio, who was sprawled out on a couple of packing crates, half-opened her unpatched eye and regarded her friend's nervous twitch.

"You're over-thinking things again, Minna," she drawled in a matter-of-fact manner. "When the time comes, you'll make the right call. You always do."

The Strike Witches leader gave her second-in-command a wry smile. "I'm glad someone thinks so."

Mio stretched and sat upright. "No. You always do. From the day we lost Hanna and you took over, you've made the right decisions. Maybe they haven't always been easy, but they've always been right. You need to stop pushing yourself so hard."

The reassuring smile Mio gave her made Minna chuckle. "Okay, mom."

A voice from the back of the bay suddenly caught their attention.

"No. Oh, gods, no."

"Eila?" Minna inquired. "What's wrong?"

"We're… we're too late." The precognitive Witch murmured in reply.

Minna felt a chill run through her body. "What do you mean? We can't be. They should still be a few hours out from Riga. What could possibly…"

"No." the Soumos precognitive breathed. "Before landfall. Over the ocean. Death follows two, despair follows another. It's going to happen. It may be happening now. We can't stop it."

By this time everyone in the cargo hold was listening intently. They had all been trying to keep cool but this sudden news had everyone instantly on edge. The group looked at Minna expectantly. Unfortunately, there was nothing that could be done about it. They had no way to contact Charlotte and the rest without using a series of skip relays…and they were not even supposed to _be_ here. This was officially a cargo run.

"Minna?" Mio questioned.

"General Briggs should be onboard the _IFS Akane_ by now. That's Admiral Nishimura's flagship. I will notify him of your prediction." She frowned. "We may not be able to stop it, but we can sure as hell try to minimize the damage."

Mio maintained a stoic expression, but inside she was roiling with turmoil. She was worried for all four girls, but her thoughts couldn't help but focus primarily on the young Fuso girl she had dragged into this war in the first place. Although Perrine was convinced that there was a romantic attraction between her beloved Major Sakamoto and that nasty 'raccoon dog' she had brought into their midst, nothing could be further from the truth. The Gallian noblewoman was simply ignorant of the senpai/kohai social dynamic that existed in Fuso culture.

Mio was Yoshika's senior; nothing more, nothing less. Having actively tried to recruit Yoshika and having brought her to Britannia in the first place, she felt responsible for the younger girl and took it upon herself to make sure she trained well and stayed out of trouble. Not to mention the fact that Yoshika's own father had taken care of _her_ when she was a young recruit. She felt she owed the Miyafuji family something as well, so there was that. For Yoshika's part, she looked up to "Sakamoto-san" and tried her best to learn from her and make her proud, just like any good Fuso junior would.

 _"And you always_ _ **do**_ _make me proud, Miyafuji. I should probably let you know that more often. Please be all right."_

* * *

 ** _\- September 27, 1943  
\- Unidentified atoll in Orussian Territory_**

Yoshika was sleeping now, although her sleep was anything but peaceful. Her body had run out of whatever stores of adrenaline that had been keeping it going earlier, but even unconscious she squirmed fitfully.

Lynette couldn't allow herself to be overwhelmed by her own fears and memories. She needed to take care of her precious love. Now that Charlotte and Francesca had left them alone, Lynne was able to focus enough to center and calm herself. It was a technique her therapist had taught her, back when she first began recovering from her father's abuse. One she hadn't needed to use for quite some time. Now that she had a moment to prepare, she was able to face her returning memories head-on.

Yes, her father had beaten her down mentally and abused her physically and twisted her shame to keep her quiet. For a while, that had been enough.

But there had been people who loved her, who helped her when all seemed lost. And now, at long last, she had a special someone who believed in her wholeheartedly. That special someone _needed_ her now.

 _"Yoshika thinks I'm wonderful. That is all that matters, father. What_ _ **you**_ _think is irrelevant."_

 _ **you are weak - you are pathetic - it was your fault**_

 _"No father._ _The_ _fault was your own._ _You_ _are the one who is weak._ _You_ _are the one who is pathetic. Doing…_ _that…_ _to your own daughter? For two years? Who could_ _ **be**_ _more pathetic than_ _you_ _?"_

Lynne squared off against the demons in her mind. Quite frankly, she'd had enough. She'd already come to terms with this. Yoshika's words may have triggered her flashback, but she possessed the tools to fight it and regain control.

 _"Aunt Ellen saved me from you. Dr. Lack helped me see that it wasn't my fault."_ She looked fondly at Yoshika. _"And without even knowing it, this amazing girl gave me strength…gave me my life back._ _ **My**_ _life,"_ she thought with finality. _"You are no longer a part of it."_

And as she thought it, she knew that it was true. His voice was gone once more and this time it felt like it was for good. Truly, she _was_ beyond his reach now. Even if she did encounter him again one day, she now knew she could face him. She could stand up against him. She wouldn't back down.

Because of **her**. It was all because of her.

Now that her existential crisis was over, the young Britannian allowed herself to feel a sense of satisfaction at the personal victory she had just achieved — reveling in both her new-found resilience and her staunch determination. Yoshika had always been strong for her, and now it was her turn to be strong for Yoshika.

Her quiet reflection didn't last long, however. Yoshika suddenly started becoming highly agitated again, her body shuddering with violent spasms. Before Lynne was able to move to comfort her, the little Fuso girl's eyes snapped wide open and she sat bolt upright, screaming with renewed terror.

As Lynne once again held her girlfriend tightly, an odd and unfamiliar feeling of disassociation suddenly washed over her. She felt as if she were in two different places at once. The world around her grew darker until she was floating in pitch-black emptiness… empty save for the feeble glimmer of light barely visible in the distance. The light was crying. She could feel it's helplessness and despair.

 _"where am i? what's happening to me?"_ the light cried out in fear. _"please someone please help me."_

Lynette gasped in sudden understanding.

It was not unheard of that Witches who were partners — life partners — developed a bond deep enough to share their thoughts and emotions with one another. Generally it took years together for that to occur. However, Yoshika's anguish was resonating so deeply within Lynette's soul that, for the moment, they were sharing an empathic bond.

She found herself being pulled into Yoshika's memories — reliving the experience along with the terrified girl. Pain and pleasure indistinguishable. The darkness. The emptiness. The loss of self. The seductive whisper in the back of her mind, holding her docile and receptive while her life was consumed by the malignant spread of the parasitic alien intelligence. Shame at the willingness with which she had given her body and soul to her aggressor.

The memories kept replaying in an infinite loop that Yoshika could not escape, renewing the cycle of terror and shame over and over again. Lynette felt Yoshika's emotions and clearly heard the thoughts behind them. Part of the reason Yoshika was trapped in this Hell was that she believed she deserved it, that she was to blame for being weak. Lynne knew those feelings well, and it broke her heart that her sweet and innocent lover had to experience such pain and degradation. In comparison, Lynne reflected, her father fell far short in the infliction of helplessness and horror that the Neuroi had achieved… although she perceived it was not for lack of trying.

 _"You're wrong, Yoshika. It's not your fault. There was nothing you could do."_

The chain was suddenly broken. Yoshika became aware of Lynette's presence and the relentless visions faded into the background.

 _"lynne? where are you?"_

 _"I'm here. I'm right here with you. Even if you can't see me, I'm with you."_

 _"i feel so lost. i feel so alone."_

 _"I will never let you be alone. I love you, Yoshika, with all my heart. Never doubt that."_

 _"but… but… you can't… i'm… i'm not… not… worthy of your love. i don't deserve your love."_

 _"Hush now. You'll feel better with time. I understand what you are going through. You_ _ **know**_ _that I do."_

 _"but…"_

 _"You need to sleep baby. Just sleep. I'll watch over you. I won't let anything hurt you anymore, I promise."_

Relief washed over Lynne as she felt Yoshika slide into a peaceful repose. The connection was broken and Lynne found herself alone in her head once again. The girl in her arms was finally sleeping normally, her breathing steady and even. Looking to make sure there were no rocks or rough ground underneath her girlfriend's body, she laid her out, then sat up to catch her breath. She smiled thinking about the experience she had just gone through, now more sure than ever about the bond that existed between herself and the girl she loved. She was positive that, although it was going to be hard — and sometimes painful — she could help Yoshika get through whatever rough times were ahead.

Just as she knew Yoshika would do for her.

Taking in her surroundings, she suddenly became aware of Francesca standing at the edge of the brushy area, observing her. The Romagnan ace appeared to have been hesitating, unsure of whether or not to approach the older girl. Lynne smiled awkwardly and motioned for her to come over.

"Are you okay, Lynne?" Francesca asked, in a cautious way that made Lynette smile, for some reason.

"Yes. I'm quite all right now," assured the Britannian ace. "I am truly sorry about earlier. Revisited by some old ghosts, I'm afraid. But I think I'm past it." Pausing, she continued in a firmer voice "No, I _know_ I'm past it." She looked down tenderly at the unconscious girl she watched over. "And I can help her get past it, too."

The full meaning of Lynne's words were a bit too cryptic for the young Romagnan to follow really, but it sounded like it was a good thing, so she just nodded her head and gave an encouraging smile. Lynne seemed as if she were pretty much back to normal, albeit a bit more…naked than usual.

"Oh! Right. Shirley wanted me to give you this." Francesca suddenly remembered. Handing Charlotte's flight jacket over to Lynne, she glanced down at Yoshika's sleeping form. "So. She's… gonna be okay, isn't she?"

"It may take a while, but I believe she will be," Lynette answered confidently, sliding the jacket around her shoulders. "She's a very strong person, after all. She won't give up easily."

"Not to mention very stubborn," Francesca finished with a smile.

Lynne smiled as well and nodded in agreement. "So what are we doing?" she inquired. "I assume Shirley already has a plan in motion?"

"Well, for now, just stay with Yoshika," the pint-sized pilot told her. "I have to go collect all of our stuff and bring it back here. If you can get Yoshika moving by the time I'm done, we are going to retrench ASAP, since we don't know when they're coming."

"Wait. Who's coming?" Lynne asked in confusion.

"Well, Shirley's not sure who, exactly, but she thinks that the MAGUS suits were sabotaged so that the Neuroi would find us and kill us. She figures once the people who did it find out it wasn't successful they'll be sending in a clean-up crew." Francesca hesitated for a moment and then continued. "Part of that crew may very possibly be those MAGI things."

Lynette digested this news with a frown. Looking thoughtfully at her injured partner, she felt like a new person. Gone was the constant feeling of uncertainty, of indecision. After all these many years, she truly felt like herself again. Felt the courage and optimism she once had as a child. And she had someone she needed to protect.

"Can you help me carry her out to the clearing so Shirley can keep an eye on her? I don't imagine she will be waking up any time soon, but I would like her to not wake up alone."

"Huh?" grunted Francesca blankly.

"I'm going with you. You need the help and it sounds like we don't have a lot of time." She actually found herself grinning at Francesca's dumbfounded look. "I have a wonderful life to look forward to and she's going to be in it… she's going to be the most important part _**of**_ it. I will do whatever I have to do in order to make that happen."

" 'Righty, then," the little ace grinned back. "Let's do this."

Brandishing the oversized machete she had lifted from Mallory's weapon rack, she began to hack a path back to where Charlotte and Vince were waiting. Lynne picked Yoshika up and marveled once again at how small and how light the adorable little Fuso maiden actually was.

This girl…this tiny girl, who took Neuroi particle beams point-blank without breaking a sweat, who had once shielded an **entire** **fleet** as it retreated from an ambush, who could bring a person back from the very brink of death through sheer force of will…that same tiny girl, now in her arms, felt as fragile as spun glass.

* * *

In the scant twenty-or-so minutes Francesca had been gone, Charlotte had already started scavenging serviceable parts from the now-defunct MAGUS, working around Mallory, as it looked like the kid was going to just sleep the rest of the war away. As much as she wasn't looking forward to it, she decided was just going to have to wake him up. She had to get it over with at some point.

However, before she could move to do so, she turned in surprise at the sound of bushes crashing down and saw her energetic partner clearing a path through the dense brush, followed closely by Lynette carrying Yoshika princess-style. Bursting into the clearing, Francesca struck a pose with the machete, coming dangerously close to nipping her ear in the process. Lynne immediately moved to the shady side of the clearing, carefully laid Yoshika down and kissed her softly on the lips. Then, standing, she turned to face Charlotte while coming to attention.

"Master-Sergeant Lynette Bishop reporting for duty, ma'am."

Charlotte cocked a suspicious eyebrow, giving Lynne the once-over. She seemed normal enough if perhaps a bit more stiff than usual. Still… not 30 minutes ago she had been having a pretty serious emotional meltdown. Lynette could sense the skepticism in her senior's penetrating gaze.

"Shirley, I'm fine. Honestly."

There was a long pause as the two stared each other down.

"Well, okay then," Charlotte finally relented. "Won't try to pretend we don't need you. I don't know how much Lucchini has filled you in, but time is of the essence. Get your wings, get our gear, and get your asses back, pronto."

The two girls nodded in assent.

"And you!" she continued, pinning Francesca with a glare. "Don't think I forgot. I don't care _what_ your hurry was; if you permanently damaged your Strikers with that so-called 'landing' of yours, you will still be peeling potatoes two wars from now."

Francesca swallowed hard, knowing Shirley was only half-kidding.

"One last thing before we go," Lynne spoke up. "About Yoshika." They all glanced over to where their injured companion was lying. "If she wakes up while I'm gone…she's likely to be confused and disoriented. You need to move slowly…don't startle her or do anything, you know, she may feel is threatening. Talk to her in a calm manner. She may not even respond, but…"

"I know, Lynne. I saw the same training film," Charlotte assured her. Clapping the younger girl on the shoulder she flashed a confident smile. "Don't worry. I promise…I'll take good care of her until you get back."

With a feeling of gratitude Lynne turned and left…with Francesca in the lead, of course. Charlotte was acting more like herself again, making Lynne feel a bit more at ease. She felt like there was a good chance they could still come out of this intact. Shirley was the best tactician she knew, after their own commander, Minna Wilcke. And she had actually been out in the field with Shirley more often than with Commander Wilcke. She was certainly grateful that Shirley was mission commander for _this_ assignment. She was going to have to confide certain personal things to Shirley relating to Yoshika's current mental state and she definitely wouldn't have felt as comfortable talking about such things with, say, Major Sakamoto or Lieutenant Barkhorn.

So, having Charlotte in command and on top of things made her feel a bit more confident. They had faced worse than this. Hadn't they?

 _"Let's see…"_ she thought as she made her way through the undergrowth. _"Two of our friends are dead, Yoshika was almost consumed by a Neuroi and is now traumatized. Shirley is still recovering from her injuries, plus her Striker is damaged. And, not to be mean or anything, but without the MAGUS suit, Vincent is just a regular guy who can't even lift most of the weapons he was carrying."_

She frowned in reflection.

 _"Have I forgotten anything? Oh, yes. The search and rescue operation is probably going to leave out the 'rescue' part."_ She mentally retracted her previous statement. They had definitely never faced worse than this.

* * *

After making it back to the crash site with Lynette, Francesca went on to backtrack where she had 'landed' earlier. Even before Charlotte had brought it up, the little Romagnan had been slightly worried, after the fact, about the flight-worthiness of her Strikers. _"Eh!"_ she had finally decided, _"… how bad could it be?"_ And put it out of her mind.

The answer, as it turned out, was _'pretty bad,'_ actually.

Focused only on reaching her injured partner, Francesca had been coming in hot, probably clocking roughly 185 MPH when she abandoned her Strikers and jumped the rest of the way. The impact of her slender body on the ground where she skidded to a landing dug a trench about a foot deep and fifteen-or-so feet long. The dead-weight Strikers — plummeting uncontrolled and still moving at velocity — made an even bigger impression on the landscape.

The tiny ace stared at the impressively-dinged fuselage of her Fiat's. Rubbing the back of her head in embarrassment, she glanced around self-consciously, half expecting Charlotte to come racing out of the bushes, shouting 'J'accuse!'

 _"Whoops,"_ she told herself. _"Won't do that again."_

She hefted her Strikers up and laid them out on a clear patch where she could get a better look. Ignoring the cosmetic damage, of course, it turned out there were only two major problems, both potentially fixable.

First of all, the starboard rudder assembly had become completely unseated from the housing. She could probably force that back into place if she could find something that had the leverage and tensile strength of a crowbar.

Second, the intake manifold on the port engine. It seemed fine on visual inspection, but when she fired it up, it stuck in the open position and the engine threatened to redline. She could fix it easily with a hex wrench and long-shafted Phillips-head. She _was_ Glamorous Shirley's number-one sidekick and Girl Friday, after all. She had learned a few things.

She cursed her short-sightedness. _"I should have grabbed the toolkit out of Merlin. That was dumb of me. Shirley would never make that mistake,"_ she thought sourly. _"Hey, that's **right**! Why don't __**I**_ _have one?"_ She scanned the ground for something to use as a makeshift tool. _"Crowbar… crowbar… crowbar…"_

Lynette, meanwhile, started on her part of the salvage operation. Pulling two bungee cords from the emergency storage hatch in Yoshika's Striker and the two in her own as well, she used them to bind Yoshika's Zero's together. She found Yoshika's supply belt, as well, and about 40 extra rounds of ammo for her Type 99. She stuffed all of that, as well as her own supply belt and ammo, inside the leg cavities of Yoshika's Strikers.

She decided to save Francesca some time by hauling Charlotte's Strikers upright and using the cord in Merlin's emergency storage to do the initial binding. She tried to think of a way to leave Francesca a note on what to do with the rest but decided that the savvy ensign could figure it out on her own.

Strapping her Boys AA to her back and slinging Yoshika's T-99 Aircraft Cannon over her right shoulder, she grabbed the cords binding Yoshika's Zeros in her left fist, braced herself against the added weight, and took off toward the rendezvous point.

When Lynne returned, Yoshika still had not woken, but Vince had. She landed and brought the equipment out for inspection. Deciding to wait and see what the atmosphere was before she said anything to Vince, she reported her findings to Charlotte.

— — —

"Okay. Good. Well, once Lucchini gets back, we can figure out where we are going to hole up. Where… where…" the Liberion ace mused.

Vince raised a hand. "Beggin' th' captains pardon, but whilst ah' was gettin' thrown upside-down an' sideways, ah' could swear ah' saw what looked to be the mouth of a cave system along that cove on th' north side a th' island or whatever this is."

Charlotte perked up hearing that. "That's pretty likely actually. Many islands and atolls like this have extensive cave systems. That would be a great place to stash our armament _and_ establish an observation post."

She eyed Vince…somewhat cautiously it seemed. "You want to walk with me and check out the lay of the land? Figure out our defensive options?"

"Sounds good ta' me, ma'am." the young man answered. "Better'n sittin' around waitin' ta get picked off by a bunch a' scrub rats, fer' sure."

Seeing the underlying guilt and sadness on Charlotte's face, Vince gave her what he hoped was a reassuring look. "Ah' really am okay, ma'am. Like ah' said, ah'll grieve for 'em both when the time's proper. But ah'd be dishonorin' Bill _and_ the lieutenant if ah' didn't use everything they taught me ta' help you guys get home safe."

Charlotte smiled gratefully at his words. She admired the grit and determination the boy seemed to possess while maintaining a rather humble personality. He certainly lived up to Francesca's opinion of him. Not surprising really, as she knew the little Romagnan tended to choose her friends well.

"Alright, then. Do me a favor, will ya? Go on ahead and start mapping out the leading tunnels. I'll catch up to you in a bit." Vince nodded and moved out to attend to his assignment.

Charlotte then motioned to Lynne to walk with her to the spot where Yoshika lay.

"She woke up for a brief moment, but she wasn't lucid. I got her to drink some water. Well, to be fair, I poured it in her mouth and she just swallowed reflexively."

Looking thoughtfully at the little Fuso girl, she continued. "She is definitely catatonic. One thing I could tell for sure is that she is still can't see. Hysterical blindness, at least in the battlefield, is generally caused by sensory overload. You know, heat of battle stuff… gunfire, explosions, fear, confusion — everything happening all at once. She experienced sensory overload of some kind and now her brain can't process the information it's receiving. A defense mechanism for her sanity. Which again leads me to _'what happened_?' y'know?"

She frowned at her inability to understand why her squad-mate and friend was hurt so badly. "I can't even begin to imagine what she could have experienced to cause this level of trauma. _Especially_ for someone like Miyafuji. She's one tough girl," Charlotte mused.

Lynette had known this discussion was coming and had already made the decision to trust Charlotte with the more intimate details of the psychological consequences of violent assault. She motioned for the older girl to sit.

"I can tell you exactly what happened, Shirley. After all, I experienced it second-hand. And even though I knew it wasn't actually happening to me, it was still pretty terrifying."

Charlotte felt like she missed something. "What are you talking about?"

"She woke up again while you and Francesca were gone. I heard her scream my name, but it was in my head." Glancing sideways she saw that she had Charlotte's full attention. "An instant later, I felt like I was in two places at once. I was kneeling on the ground next to Yoshika and I was also floating next to her in a dark and empty space. She was reliving the incident, and I experienced it as well."

"That's… … uh… … _wow_!" Charlotte managed to stammer. The Liberion ace certainly understood the significance of such an event. There should be no doubt in anyone's mind that the souls of these two young lovers were bound by something deeper than destiny or fate.

"I couldn't get direct information, but I got the impression that she was exhausted. The Neuroi caught her by surprise and played some pretty nasty mind games with her. When it had her I am positive that she didn't even understand what was happening."

She swallowed hard and fought not to waver. "I understand that, as our commanding officer, you're going to need to know. What I'm about to tell you is very personal Shirley and I'm trusting you to keep our confidence."

Charlotte nodded an affirmative.

"And also," Lynne continued, "to fully understand what happened to Yoshika and why she is reacted the way she did, I need to tell you something about myself as well."

"Huh?" Charlotte asked in confusion.

"I know they may not seem related, but they are," she sighed. "I guess I should start at the beginning…"

* * *

Back at the 'landing' site, Francesca was putting the finishing touches on her repair job. She had ended up running back to the crash site and retrieving the toolkit from the storage area in Charlotte's Striker Unit, where the red-headed ace kept a small stash of emergency supplies. The Liberion-made P-51 Mustang bodies were a bit larger than her own Fiat's and had extra space for such things. She still wanted her own toolkit, though.

Replacing the shroud over the now-repaired intake manifold, she thanked her lucky stars that she actually paid attention when Shirley showed her this stuff. Her 'big sis' seemed to have a knack for getting her to pay attention and retain this kind of knowledge.

Even though busy, she had time to reflect on everything that had happened today. Specifically, her reaction to what had happened to Shirley. Was she in love with Shirley? She knew that she loved the older girl, but was she _in_ love with her? She hadn't thought so, but when the crisis came it seemed that was truly the case.

She said some pretty powerful things in the heat of the moment. There was no way they could just ignore this. The redhead was treating her just the same, but when she was holding Francesca in her arms earlier, comforting her, Shirley had whispered to her. "When things settle down, we need to have a serious talk, okay kiddo?"

Francesca was not the brooding type, though. Things would work out the way they worked out. She was confident that, no matter what, the close friendship she shared with the older girl would always remain. Shirley would never abandon her and Francesca would always do her best to make her mentor proud.

Time to collect Merlin, get all their junk, and head back. Smiling, she fired up the engines and snorted in satisfaction as they purred smoothly for her.

 _"Good as new! Shirley probably won't even notice I used the landing strut as a crowbar. Or the two-foot long gash in the starboard fuselage…"_

The tiny Romagnan ace never received the scolding about her Fiat's she had feared. The older girl had more important things to worry about and simply expressed her relief that Francesca was back safe and sound.

Ruffling the youngster's hair, Charlotte gave her some rations and water. "Why don't you stay here and rest up a bit while the rest of us start setting things up? Someone needs to stay with Miyafuji anyway and I want Lynette on ordinance. Okay?"

"Okay, Shirley. Whatever you say," Francesca replied confidently.

"You did a great job, kiddo. I'm proud of you."

Ordinarily, receiving such praise from Charlotte would simply cause Francesca to grin like an idiot and giggle, but not this time. Even she, herself, was surprised when she felt her face heat up and her cheeks flare bright red in embarrassment. Turning her eyes away and staring at the ground, she managed to stammer "T-thanks Shirley."

Charlotte couldn't help but notice this drastic change in behavior. She arched an eyebrow, but kept her observation to herself and went on about her business.

 _"What the heck was that?"_ Francesca thought in confusion. _"Why did I react that way? Gods, Shirley is gonna think I'm getting weird or something."_

* * *

 **- _S_ _eptember 27, 1943  
_ \- _IFS Akane — Location: Southern Baltic Sea  
_ \- _Command Deck: Evening Watch_**

 _Akane's_ chief communications officer perked up immediately upon hearing the radio transmission between the two parties he had been tasked to listen for. He spun in his chair to face the command deck and looked upward.

"Admiral Nishimura? We are intercepting a transmission between Tansaffal Airbase in Riga and the MAGUS Task Force."

Nishimura frowned and stood, clasping his hands behind his back. "Very good, lieutenant. Put it on speakers. Let's hear what they have to say."

There was a brief crackle of static and then the Latvian-tinged accent of Tansaffal's Operations Officer could be heard over the bridge's loudspeakers.

 _ **"Yes, General Maloney? Dis is Tansaffal Control Tower. Your pilots are now tree hours overdue und ve are unable to establish radio contact. Ve are preparing S &R teams now und vill keep you apprised as to our status. Over"**_

 _ **"Thank you, Tansaffal, but there is no need for you to send your teams at this time. We are in the vicinity of their last sighted position and are currently preparing our own operation. Please be aware that while the MAGUS program itself is no longer classified, some of the tech involved is still restricted material."**_ There was a pause in the transmission. _**"Quite honestly, unless we deem it necessary, we would like to minimize involvement with non-essential units. You understand, of course? Over."**_

The voice of Tansaffal's Operations Officer was replaced by a new voice that carried with it a distinctly Liberion inflection.

 _ **"General, this is Lieutenant-Colonel Hollister. I acknowledge your message and we will remain on standby. I have to say, on the record, General, I do**_ **not** _ **like this. My people are not accustomed to sitting on the sidelines while others do our job. Over."**_

 _ **"While I do understand your feelings, Colonel, I repeat, we are simply trying to avoid a potential security breach. You are, of course, free to confirm our current assignment and mission parameters with Central Command, if you feel you must. Over."**_

 _ **"That won't be necessary, General. I will defer to your authority in this matter. We will have S &R teams standing by, at any rate. Please let us know if you require assistance. Tansaffal out."**_

Nishimura turned to address the figure that had entered the bridge during the transmission and was now leaning against the rail of the Command Deck. "Did you get all that, Douglas?"

Brigadier Douglas 'D.W.' Briggs nodded to his long-time friend. "I did. Sounds like the 501st's precog was right on the money. Thanks for sticking your neck out like this, Noboru. It means a lot to me. Since we don't know who in Central Command has been compromised, we have to make this stand without official backing."

"Don't mention it, Douglas," the Admiral answered. "If even half of what you told me is true, it is worth the risk. So, I'll leave it to you. How would you like to proceed?"

"Just keep us on this heading and speed until we rendezvous with Commander Wilcke's squadron. If we do end up having to deal with those experimental mecha units I'll feel a hell of a lot better having a full contingent of Witches to back us up." Briggs cast his old friend a hooded glance. "I just hope we're in time."

Both men turned as Ursula Hartmann approached them with a stack of research notes and mission briefs.

"I've gathered all the relevant information on the MAGI brigadier. Hopefully, we can find a weakness in the units' defenses."

"Thank you, Lieutenant." the General acknowledged. "Noboru, do you mind if I use your office for a while?"

"Go right ahead," the admiral told him. "Anything else?"

"Have your com officer establish a secure line to Commander Hollister in Riga. As soon as you get him, patch it through to your office." Motioning Ursula to follow, Briggs began making his way to the admiral's office.

* * *

 ** _\- Unidentified atoll in Orussian Territory_**

Francesca perked up the instant she saw Yoshika stirring. She forced herself not to react rapidly, moving slowly and deliberately toward Yoshika while calling out to her in a half-whisper, "Ciao, Yoshika. Are you feeling better?"

The Fuso pilot slowly took in her surroundings with half-focused eyes, finally settling on Francesca, staring at her while recognition slowly returned.

"lucchini-chan?"

The little Romagnan smiled. "Yeah. How are you feeling?"

For a long while there was only a blank stare.

"…it hurts…" Yoshika finally answered dully.

"What hurts, Yoshika?"

"…it hurts…" she repeated in the same dead monotone.

"Can I get you anything? You want some water?" Francesca asked her.

Yoshika squinted at the blurred figure before her but the image refused to make sense. "lynne?" Yoshika questioned hopefully.

Francesca started to become worried. "No. It's me. It's Lucchini."

The reply was weak and confused. "lucchini… -chan?"

"Yeah. Lynne is out helping Shirley and Vince drag all our stuff into these caves that we're all gonna hide in from the bad guys. You know, I may be fast and all-around bad-ass, but Lynne has me beat in the upper-body strength department if you know what I… mean… and… I… umm…"

Francesca's stream-of-consciousness babble trailed off as she slowly realized that although Yoshika was awake she was far from aware.

"… oh…" the hollow-eyed brunette whispered dejectedly. "… ok…"

Francesca watched in dismay as Yoshika curled herself into a fetal position and began to cry. Why on earth was her friend was acting like this? Why didn't she heal herself? Did something else happen that Lynne and Shirley were keeping from her? She was desperate to help somehow. The sight of Yoshika crying… it was just **wrong**.

"Please don't cry, Yoshika," Francesca pleaded desperately. "We're all here for you. We'll keep you safe, just like you've always done for us. I promise."

It was no use. Yoshika still couldn't fully comprehend where she was or what was happening around her. Reality was too bright and too loud and too sharp. With every heartbeat the lacerations covering her body throbbed in excruciating pain, further dulling her ability to think. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut she whimpered. "i need… i need… *sob* i need… *sob* i need…"

At this point Francesca was crying quite heavily herself. "Shhhhh. Shhhhh. It's okay, I promise. It's going to be okay," she soothed, trying to reassure the older girl. "I know. I know who you need. I'll go get her right now? I'll be right back. I won't let you down. Just stay with us, please?"

With a final worried look back, she ran as fast as her magically-enhanced form could carry her to the spot where Shirley had decided to set up shop. She found Vince and Charlotte placing camouflage in front of certain cave fronts and flumes that faced skyward. Lynne was off to the side checking, prepping and loading the ordinance.

Panting, she dashed up to them, dragging her sleeve across her eyes to wipe away any remaining tears.

"Lynne! Lynne! You gotta come quick. Please!"

Lynne looked up from her work, concern written deeply on her features. "What's wrong?"

"She's… she's scared. She's really really scared. And I don't know why. And I couldn't help her," the younger girl answered desperately. "She barely even knew I was there. What's wrong with her, Lynne? Why is she acting like this?"

The Britannian girl looked questioningly at Charlotte, who gave her a brief nod in return. "Go."

As Lynette dashed away, Charlotte snagged Francesca's collar, preventing the lovable little pest from butting in where she didn't belong. The kid was still a bit too young to fully understand relationship boundaries. Instead of protesting, though, Francesca spun around to confront her partner.

"Why won't you guys tell me what's really wrong with her?" She was angry and tried to show it by her furrowed brow and stern countenance and serious demeanor. It was the indignantly puffed-out cheeks that finally did it for Charlotte. _"Gah! She is_ _ **so**_ _adorable."_

The Liberion didn't even try to hold back her laughter. "Oooo. Is Wucchini wewe angwy?"

'Wucchini' stomped her foot in frustration. " **Shirley!** "

The redhead chuckled and held her hand up in a consolatory gesture. "Sorry, kiddo. You're just too cute sometimes." Ruffling the youngster's hair, she continued, "But seriously, all you need to know is what you already know. A Neuroi tried to assimilate Yoshika and she beat it. And she got seriously injured doing so. Anything else that may have happened is personal and is not for me to share, all right?"

Francesca knew Charlotte was giving her the straight skinny and grudgingly nodded in agreement. Then, looking for any assurance she could get, she asked in a quiet voice. "Will she be okay again?"

The smile Charlotte answered her with was genuine. "If I were placing bets? I would bet on Miyafuji every time."

Right now, they were playing a waiting game. Their preparations had been made, as far as they could make them. Camouflage in place. Weapons primed and ready. Yoshika had been moved to a safe place, deep inside one of the main caverns they had found. Lynette was currently with her.

Charlotte found a comfortable vantage point and settled in to await their theorized aggressors. Feeling a lump inside her jacket, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a cigar, one of the brand Bill Fiske had carried with him habitually. She silently thanked him as she patted the pockets looking for her Zippo _._ Puffing on the cigar to get it roaring, she looked up to the wide open blue reflectively.

 _"Don't worry, Bill. I intend to kick their asses all the way to Hades. I_ _ **will**_ _make them pay for what they've done to you and Padric. And I'll get Vince home safe and sound, too. I promise you."_


	13. Sound and Fury

****A/N:**** Welcome back. Please enjoy this chapter. ** **  
****

"Strike Witches hajimeru yo!"

 **Sound and Fury**

* * *

 _"They sowed the wind, and now they are going to reap the whirlwind."_ ~ British Air Marshall Sir Arthur Harris

 ** _\- September 27, 1943  
\- Unidentified atoll in Orussian Territory_**

Francesca found Vince sitting on a rocky outcropping overlooking the ocean, gazing at nothing in particular. Just lost in the clouds. After a moment of hesitation, she strode up to join him. He turned his head to acknowledge her as she approached.

"Oh, hey, Lucchini. You guys need me for somethin'?"

"Nope," Francesca answered, sitting down beside him. "I just wanted to see how you were doing. Are you gonna be alright?"

Vince heaved a sigh. His thoughtful demeanor remained. "Ah 'spect ah _will_ be. Still kinda don' feel real, y'know? Ah half expect Bill t' come over that ridge any second now and tell me this was just one'a his stupid jokes." He gave a self-deprecating laugh. "Silly, huh? I've had people close to me die before. I know it's just 'shit that happens.'"

Looking up through the bangs of his tousled hair he appeared, to Francesca, to be both old and young.

"Just by enlisting, ya know there's a good chance ya ain't comin' home. Ya do the job yer sent ta do. Ah' know fer sure that Bill had no regrets. He wasn't lookin' ta die, but he was ready ta give his life fer what he believed in." He gave her a confident smile. "An' he believed in Cap'n Yeager all the way. An' so do I. She should never doubt that."

Francesca looked at her friend and found that the respect she had for him had grown even stronger. She wondered if she would ever be able to develop the kind of grace and maturity that Vince possessed. Hugging her knees, she leaned forward and looked up into the sky. Vincent smiled and turned his gaze back upward as well. The two sat in a comfortable silence, enjoying a peace they both knew would be short-lived.

It had been around four and a half hours since the whole debacle had ended.

Only four and a half hours since Bill Fiske and Padric Hughes had been killed in action, their lives taken by the very machines they flew in. Four and a half hours since Charlotte Yeager had been shot down by a Neuroi and injured. Four and a half hours since Yoshika Miyafuji had been deeply and grievously harmed by the remaining MAGUS Core fragment.

The sun was about an hour and a half from setting and Charlotte was beginning to think they had bought themselves some extra time. Eventually though, she heard the muffled drone of a twin-engine aircraft approaching from the open ocean to the west. Here it was, the reconnaissance flight she had been expecting, and it wasn't approaching from the mainland either, also as she had more than half-expected.

Hustling over to where she knew the youngsters were hanging out, she managed to come in on the middle of an interesting discussion that made her chuckle.

"… no action, as such. Unless you count groping everybody's boobs. Like my friend Yoshika, I'm a breast girl."

"Well, yer young an' cute," Vince joked. "You can get away with sexual harassment."

"Ha. Not always." the twin-tail laughed back. "I did it to Lieutenant Barkhorn and… well, let's just say she can be pretty scary when she's pissed off."

Charlotte cleared her throat to get their attention. "Sorry to interrupt your scintillating intellectual conversation, but we've got company. Head for the cavern, double-time."

The two youngsters got up and followed their commanding officer into cover. They watched and waited as the minutes stretched out and above them a lone aircraft made a sweeping arc around the atoll, then came around for another pass.

"Well, that clinches it," the Liberion Witch stated with calm certainty. "That search plane isn't out of Riga. It came from almost due-West. Any flight out of Tansaffal Airbase would have approached from the south-east."

Francesca followed the flight path of the small aircraft as it finished its second pass. "So, who sent it then?"

"I'll give you one guess." Her partner answered grimly.

"General Maloney."

"Ye," The redhead confirmed. "Not a doubt in my mind. Us, alive, is a huge setback to his plans. He knows we know about the MAGI program. Ursula and I both assumed as much when we discovered how tied up in all this he is. We know they discovered the security breach at St. Trond, but it wasn't officially reported. That was another reason I didn't want to send Ursula back there."

Everyone watched without comment as the airplane made four sweeping passes, the last two concentrating south and east of their position.

"Well, he's found the crash site. Since we collected everything, they're gonna know that at least some of us survived. Only a matter of time now." She frowned. The recon plane made a final approach up the coast of the atoll and then abruptly banked away and headed back out to the open sea.

"Now the big question is, how far away is the ship it launched from?" Charlotte mused. She turned towards the cave's interior. "Lynne," she called out, "can you come here for a minute?"

In short order, the Britannian pilot emerged from the smaller cavern where she was caring for Yoshika. "Yes, Shirley? What is it?"

"Reconnaissance just did a fly-over. I'd like you to get some elevation and see what you can spot," Charlotte ordered. "Be careful, and don't go too far afield. I just want an idea of what we're facing."

Lynette nodded in the affirmative and moved to haul her Strikers out from the cave mouth to the small clearing in front. "What's my bearing?" she called out.

"Heading Northwest 321 degrees, stay low enough to not get spotted, yourself. Just try to get me the number of ships we're facing and an estimate of how far away they are," the squad commander concluded.

"On my way," Lynne called out as she started her engines.

The sun was very low in the sky and it wouldn't be very long before dusk started to settle in. Lynette knew she had to be careful, since she would be much easier to spot, flying into the sun as she was — but she needed enough elevation to raise her horizon line-of-sight.

There! There was the recon plane, a small black dot against the slowly setting sun. She let her gaze fall to the ocean below, following the trajectory of her unknowing quarry. Narrowing her eyes to focus keenly on a darker patch in the middle of the dark blue-green expanse, she was able to make out a flotilla of three ships.

She concentrated even harder until she could begin to feel the pounding of her heartbeat in her temples. Her focus sharpened by magnitudes and she was able to make out the fine details of the ships…including their registry. " _HMS Dunkirk and HMS Euryalus…_ " She couldn't clearly identify the third, much smaller ship, as it was trailing behind and partially obscured by the other two.

Hovering in place for a moment to note the ships' position and bearing, the young Britannian then turned and headed immediately back the way she had come, hugging the ocean at wave-height all the way back to their base. The whole trip had taken her perhaps 15 minutes, tops.

"I would estimate that they are about 25 to 30 nautical miles out and heading this way rather quickly," Lynne reported to her commander, who digested this information and began to fine-tune the battle plan.

"Let's see," Charlotte mused. " _Dunkirk_ is a battle-class destroyer. She can hit about 35 knots, but she'll have to back that down a bit for _Euryalus_ to keep pace. She's a Dido-class light cruiser and they can only crank out about 27 knots at best. Still…that puts them at less than an hour away. I was hoping it would be fully dark before they got here and we could buy a few hours' grace, but they may very well still try to mount an expeditionary force when they arrive," she explained to her crew, darkly. "Depends on how desperate Maloney actually is."

Taking the group in with her gaze, the commander of the Propaganda Squad fell into full work-mode. "You two get your weapons together," she nodded toward Lynne and Francesca. "C'mon," she motioned towards Vince. "You need some kind of stable platform to shoot effectively. I have a couple of ideas."

Stooping down, the ginger pilot retrieved her toolkit from the floor of the cave and headed out, with Vince following close behind. The two remaining girls went to the pile of ordinance stacked in the rear of the chamber, to find a compliment for their own weapons.

Lynette didn't hesitate as she picked up Yoshika's own primary weapon, the Type-99 Aircraft Cannon. Francesca favored a Suomi M1931 to go along with her Breda-SAFAT. It packed a 19mm round, compared to her Breda's 12.7mm bore. " _Bigger bullet, bigger bang!"_ she thought happily, hefting the large submachine gun and looking down the sights, giving a predatory grin as she did so. They spent a good 30 minutes prepping their weapons and ammunition, trying to ensure that nothing mucked up when they needed them to perform.

Noticing Lynette was finished with her maintenance, Francesca decided to give the older girl some more time to be with her injured lover before heading into a deadly, potentially life-threatening battle. "Why don't you go talk with Yoshika a bit?" she offered her friend kindly. "Say whatever it is you need to say to her before… well… you know."

Understanding what her friend meant, Lynne nodded solemnly in agreement. "Thank you."

* * *

After Lynne had left her, Francesca hurried out to find Charlotte and Vince. She was eager to see what sort of engineering marvel the brilliant redhead had cooked up now. She wasn't to be disappointed this time either. She arrived just as it looked as if they were finishing up, both of them stepping back to admire their handiwork.

"Wow!" Vince gasped. "Cap'n Yeager, this is _incredible_."

"Ain't it, though?" Charlotte replied cockily. "And practically nothing to work with, either. I definitely outdid myself this time." She shot him a thumbs-up. "I _am_ pretty damn awesome." Her righteous swagger made Francesca want to swoon on the spot.

What the Liberion gadgeteer had accomplished was nothing short of amazing. Using sections of framework from the MAGUS, the engineering genius had crafted a standing gun platform. The gun mount was attached to the gyroscopic stabilizer from the suit's navigation array, giving it a 360-degree turning radius and a 55-degree attitude radius. Unless something came from ground level or directly above, it was within the strike zone. It was rigged with a counter-balance as well, seeing as how the massive gun in the cradle was meant to be mounted on board a ship, _"Or carried by a person in a mechanized battle-suit,"_ Charlotte thought wryly.

"I mounted your Bofors L/60 because it has the most rounds of ammunition available and packs one hell of a punch. We can switch out from our own guns to some of the other iron you brought, if necessary, but you're gonna be stuck with only this. Sorry."

"That's okay, ma'am," the young pilot chuckled. "Ah think ah c'n do some pretty righteous damage with this rig." Advancing on the roughly thrown-together construct, the young southerner grinned as he climbed inside and began to familiarize himself with the set-up.

Francesca chose this moment to approach Charlotte. "You just love doing the impossible, don't you?" she stated with affectionate amusement in her voice.

"Heh." Charlotte grinned. Her grin faded somewhat as she turned to fully face her partner. "Okay, listen. I want you to do something for me. Lynne is without her partner and Mallory is without his. I want to team up with Lynne. And I would like you to partner with Mallory, alright?"

The Liberion ace was expecting some sort of protest from the younger girl, but Francesca understood how important this all was and why it was best for things to be this way. "Absolutely, Shirley. You can count on me."

"I know I can," the older girl responded with a warm smile. "So, let's get to it. Just make sure you take care of yourself, y'hear?" she gently admonished as she moved towards the gun platform.

"You too, Shirley," Francesca called out as she headed back to the cave. Under her breath, she muttered. "I don't think I could take losing you twice in one day."

* * *

"… so that's the situation, Yoshika." Lynne finished with a confident smile. "We're going to beat these guys, I promise."

Her fingers interlaced with those of her unconscious girlfriend. She was quiet for a long while as she reached down with her free hand to stroke the girl's chestnut-brown hair. "You remember that day… over the Straits? You saved my life that day. You acted like it was nothing — no big deal… but the way you held me in your arms, carrying me home. So strong but gentle."

She drew the Fuso girl's hand close, brushing the knuckles with her lips. "My gallant knight. I remember looking up into your face, your head wreathed in clouds, back-lit by the sun. You looked like a brave angel."

Lynne squeezed her eyes tightly to stem the flow of tears that threatened to overwhelm her. Taking slow, measured breaths she managed to maintain a normal tone of voice. "Your smile was so caring, so confident… I felt so safe. So very happy." She brought her love's hand close once more, this time giving a soft lingering kiss.

"I will always remember that moment. That instant. That was when I fell in love with you. Honestly, I was attracted to you the very first time we met… but _that_ was the moment I fell in love. From that moment on you, were all I could think about."

In spite of her tightly closed eyes, a few hot tears leaked down her flushed cheeks.

"I know that you're strong Yoshika. I know that you're going to come back to me. But until then, *sniff* _**I'm**_ going to be the strong one, okay? After all…" through her tears a genuine smile took form, "… we're going to be together forever. Right?"

The younger girl looked so peaceful now that she was under the influence of the sedative Lynne had found in the first aid kit. She was glad of it, but still, her mind kept racing, focusing on the worst possible outcomes. What if they all died here today? Yoshika would wake up alone, never knowing what had happened.

Or worse… what if _they_ found her and _**took**_ her? A presumed-dead Witch they could use as a test subject… Lynne couldn't help but remember those slides — the dead bodies with the tops of their skulls removed… but instead of faceless strangers, she saw Yoshika's body lying on the gurney.

 _"No. That won't happen,"_ she thought resolutely. _"I won't_ _ **allow**_ _it to happen."_

It was time to go. Gently laying Yoshika's hand back down on her chest, she rose and turned to leave, pausing only once as she looked back over her shoulder and placed two fingers to her lips.

"I love you, Yoshika Miyafuji. Wait for me."

* * *

The sun had become a dull red ball, half submerged in ocean, when the ships finally appeared on the horizon. They were probably 8 to 10 miles out. Close enough to launch an assault easily. The squad members were as ready as they were ever going to be.

 _"Time's up,"_ Charlotte thought bitterly. _"Better hustle."_

"Mister Mallory, stay put. Lucchini will be right with you. Just stick with the plan and keep your head down."

Crossing the short distance quickly, the Liberion ace kept an ear out for any activity in the flotilla. The sudden blaring of flight deck klaxons alerted her that the first wave was about to begin. She entered the mouth of the cave just as Lynette was emerging from the rear cavern. Motioning the younger girl to follow, they both went back outside.

"Good timing. I can hear them clearing the flight deck. Use those sharp eyes of yours and tell me what's coming."

The young Britannian invoked her magic and focused her sight on the distant grouping of ships. As she watched, four dark shapes rose into the sky and began heading directly towards them. They were not the squat, grayish shapes of the dreaded MAGI Large, angular, not-quite-black.

"They… they look like those WARLOCK machines from the slide show," Lynne reported. "But I thought Erica's sister said they discontinued the WARLOCK program?" she asked with confusion.

Charlotte frowned. "Just because they discontinued the program doesn't mean they threw away the already completed machines. Even now they don't want to tip their hand. If they are carrying the MAGI with them, they seem to be holding them back as a last resort. "

"So… there are no people or brains or anything inside them, right?" questioned Lynette. "They are basically just Neuroi who have been leashed, right?"

"Yes," confirmed the Liberion commander.

Lynne's eyes narrowed slightly. "Good!"

The look that washed over Lynette's features when she said that caused Charlotte to worry a bit. The way she said it. The grit in her voice. She decided that she better keep an eye on the younger girl when the fighting started.

— — —

After donning a spare ammo belt, the young Britannian girl slung Yoshika's Type-99 across her shoulder blades as if she were well accustomed to doing so. She had never felt so focused — almost tunnel vision. No matter how you looked at it, it was a Neuroi that hurt Yoshika…she could now repay them in kind. She would not stop until every last one of them was dead and gone from this earth.

They hurt her. They hurt the most important person to her.

 _*atashi no motto mo taisetsu na hito*_

Yoshika had whispered that phrase lovingly in her ear, lying next to her in their bunk on the trip to Amsterdam, both exhausted after their non-stop lovemaking marathon. When she asked what it meant, the adorable little Fuso girl explained to her the true meaning behind that simple-sounding phrase. It was a case of the literal translation being inadequate.

Apparently, it meant 'My most important/beloved person'… almost. Truly, it meant something much more, much deeper; 'You are the most important person in the world to me/You mean more to me than anything or anyone else.' In Fuso culture, it was not something one said casually.

They hurt Lynette's 'motto mo taisetsu na hito.' Now they would pay the price.

Taking her position, Lynette motioned to Charlotte that she was ready. The busty redhead spared a glance to where Vince and Francesca were positioned — about 40 yards away — confirming that they were ready as well. When she looked back skyward she saw that the WARLOCK formation was advancing rapidly, close enough now that she could make them out easily.

"All right!" she called out. "Here they come. Hold your fire until they are right on top of us. We don't want to give away our…"

 _ *** BOOM ***_

"… position," she finished with a sigh. "Never mind. **Fire at will**."

The lead WARLOCK was hit directly in the weakest spot, the access panel, constructed of human-made materials. It flailed about and tried to bank away from the line of fire. Charlotte followed the trajectory of the shot back to its source and was frankly unsurprised to see it was Lynne that had fired that first shot. What _did_ surprise her was Lynne's demeanor, unlike anything she had ever exhibited before. To say she had her game-face on would be an understatement.

The Britannian pilot's eyes were narrowed to slits, brows knotted in unbridled hatred, lips curled back to bare her teeth with an animalistic snarl. She had already reloaded and lined up her next shot.

 _ *** BOOM ***_

This shot nailed the exposed Core squarely. The WARLOCK's ablative armor simply began to dissolve like a natural Neuroi. The Britannian sharpshooter had reloaded a third time before the second spent cartridge had even hit the ground.

 _ *** BOOM ***_

" **Just** _ **die**_ **! All of you** _ **just fucking DIE**_ **!** "

Her shell narrowly missed the second WARLOCK, which managed to swerve away at the last instant. Dropping her own weapon, she grabbed Yoshika's Type-99 Aircraft Cannon and blasted away at the fleeing machine.

Even in the midst of this life-or-death fight for survival, Charlotte couldn't help but be amused at hearing the high-born, blue-blooded 'Lady Lynette' using the word 'fuck' in a sentence. Still, she knew she had better get the girl on a short leash before her recklessness got them all into trouble.

"Whoa. Slow down there, ace. Save a few for the rest of us."

The out-of-place lightheartedness of Charlotte's admonishment seemed to shock Lynne back to reality. She looked ashamed that she had lost control like that. Nodding an acknowledgment to her superior, the Britannian ace took a deep breath before choosing her next target.

"All right, Lynne. You know the drill. Hold it down here and keep 'em too busy to deal while Lucchini and I take 'em out." She grinned, flashing Lynette a thumbs-up. "I will do my very best to try to bring your Strikers back in one piece." The younger girl couldn't help but grin in return, then held her hands over her ears as Charlotte bellowed at the top of her considerable lungs,

 **"OKAY, LUCCHINI! LET'S GO!"**

Down-range, Vince was making good use of the Bofors AAC, nailing two out of the three remaining WARLOCK with jarring hits that blew holes big enough to trigger the regeneration process. Francesca was strafing the exposed areas on the off chance of tagging a Core. But, from this vantage, it was of course, pretty useless. She was just killing time until she heard Shirley give her the go-ahead.

Sprinting towards her Strikers, Francesca suddenly stopped short and, after a brief instant's hesitation, turned back to Vince and reached down, unbuckling her holster and shoving it into his hands. "Here, take my Beretta. Just in case."

He gave her a startled look, then laughed. "Th' hell'm ah s'posta do with _this_? Yer waist is about as big as ma' thigh."

"Strap it to your thigh then, sheesh," retorted the pantherette, with an exasperated grin. Leaning forward, Francesca caught Vince up in a crushing hug. "Just be careful, bro."

Vince returned the hug just as meaningfully. "You too, sis."

Pulling away from the hug, the diminutive pilot made a running leap and settled into her Strikers, firing up the engines and making a vertical beeline to rendezvous with Charlotte, who was doing some quick shake-down turns before fully engaging in battle. The Britannian-made Ultramarine Spitfire felt a bit more sluggish than Charlotte's own personally tuned and tinkered-with P-51 Mustang, but there wasn't an aircraft built that the buxom Liberion ace couldn't fly.

Charlotte and Francesca had partnered together long enough to be able to work a flow without discussion. Francesca peeled off to the left, engaging the WARLOCK that was lagging slightly behind the others, trying to bring it closer to Vince's position. Charlotte dove between the remaining two machines, raking them both with high-explosive rounds and gaining their full attention. There was a high-pitched screeching sound and the redheaded ace immediately flipped backward, just as an intense shaft of ruby-red light shot by, annihilating the air molecules in its path.

" _As advertised,_ " she thought grimly. _"F_ _ull-on Neuroi-style particle beams._ _"_ She had already figured as much, considering the slides they had viewed back in Amsterdam, but this confirmed it.

The Liberion ace made a low, tight loop and strafed the two enemy machines once more. She succeeded in luring them towards the blind where Lynette was lying in wait. As she did so, she spared a glance back to see how Francesca and Vince were faring. They seemed to be handling things well enough, and Charlotte was determined to make sure they had to deal with only the one. " _C'mon, c'mon. Follow me, you dirtbags._ "

After leading them on a merry chase out over the ocean, she doubled back and began making her way towards the camouflaged cave mouth. Looking back, she noticed that one WARLOCK was directly behind her. She was already pushing the Spitfire's throttle-edge… she simply couldn't coax any more speed out of them. Finally, the cave was in sight and Charlotte started in confusion for an instant when she noticed Lynne was aiming straight for her, but relaxed when she realized the shots were moving in an arcing trajectory around her to target the WARLOCK directly on her tail, exploding violently on impact.

 _"That's right,"_ The Liberion ace grinned. _"I forgot she can throw a curve ball!"_

Her Britannian squad-mate was more than just a sharpshooter, although that was her primary task and expertise. Lynette could also guide the trajectory of her shots and infuse them with energy to cause more damage. She did not make full use of her secondary abilities very often. They usually cost her dearly in energy and effort. But not this time around. This time, it felt different. It took very little effort to influence the path of her bullets and the magical energy she used to super-charge the rounds didn't even begin to make a dent in what felt, to her, like a bottomless supply.

" _We are going to make it through this,_ " the formerly bashful Britannian thought to herself with determination. _"_ _We'll make it through this and, after that, we will end this endless war. Then Yoshika and I can truly begin our lives together._ "

The shot staggered the mecha unit behind Charlotte and the ginger ace immediately turned her attention to the second one that looked to be targeting Lynne's position, cutting off its approach and forcing it on the defensive. Instead of pressing its attack, the remaining WARLOCK peeled off and started heading for the engagement Vince and Francesca were a part of.

" _Oh, no you don't!_ " Charlotte thought angrily. Painting its back with more HE rounds, the Liberion ace managed to divert its attention back to her. Her satisfied grin turned into an annoyed grimace as she heard the 'klatch' of her rifle jamming. _"Are you effin'_ _ **kidding**_ _me? What the hell is it with me and rifles? I don't get it. Engines_ _ **love**_ _me."_

She tossed the worthless thing aside, allowing it to plunge into the ocean. Like Francesca and Lynette, she had grabbed up an auxiliary weapon as well. Looping to avoid a particle beam blast from the WARLOCK she was facing down, she swung out the big gun from behind her back. The M18 recoilless rifle was 'rifle' in name only, since you couldn't honestly call something that spat 57mm shells a rifle. In the field, it was a shoulder-held anti-tank weapon. In Charlotte's capable hands, it was a Neuroi-decimator.

They had to eliminate these things quickly as they had only so much ammunition and a Witch's powers could only last so long. The Neuroi, on the other hand, while not possessing infinite supplies of energy, had always seemed to have a much greater power reserve.

And these things were fast, as well, damn them. Vincent and Lynette were doing their jobs well, providing covering fire, but all they were really able to do was prevent the mecha units from being able to target the two flyers effectively. They weren't making much headway in wearing down their regenerative processes. They were just too goddamned fast.

Also, it was getting dark rapidly. That didn't really matter from a targeting standpoint, since the WARLOCK, although grayish-black in color, emitted the same intense ruby-red light that a Neuroi did. Easy to track. Against a human adversary in the same conditions, the Witches would have an upper hand. But Charlotte knew that wasn't necessarily so in this case. Who knew how a Neuroi saw things? If they could see in the infrared, for example, the girls would stand out like beacons against the cold night air and even colder ocean below.

 _"This is no good. We've really gotta trim these odds,"_ she thought grimly. _"Screw this."_

The Liberion keyed her mic. "Lucchini. Keep that one busy. Really pour it on. Mallory, Bishop, I want you two to concentrate your fire on the one I'm engaging now. Keep them both busy while I take out number three."

Without waiting for the acknowledgment she knew was forthcoming, she disengaged from the brute in front of her and dove straight on directly at the remaining machine. She was on top of it before it had a chance to react. Jamming the barrel of the M18 directly into contact with the lower part of the mecha's access panel, she blew a gaping hole directly through the thing. The core went with it and it fell apart before her eyes.

She grinned happily as she looped back to join the others. _"Four against two now,"_ she thought. _"You guys are toast."_ She keyed her mic again. "Two on one people. Mallory, get back to supporting Lucchini. Bishop and I will take down the other."

With renewed enthusiasm, they all began pouring it on in earnest. No matter how fast they were, the WARLOCK units were unable to fend off attacks from two different vectors at once. They still continued to put up one hell of a fight, though, and Charlotte's confidence in a quick win began to wane.

Suddenly the two machines broke off the engagement and flew straight up, out of range of the ground-based fire. They hovered in place for a moment and Charlotte was trying to figure out what they were going to do next when, without warning, they turned their "backs" on the Witches and made a beeline straight for the rapidly approaching flotilla.

 _"What the hell…?"_ Charlotte thought. _"Going for reinforcements?"_

Then she laughed out loud as she observed the WARLOCK's suddenly attacking their own ships. Twin particle beams lanced out as one and Charlotte heard warning sirens blaring. They had hulled the _Euryalus_. Damn big hole too, apparently, as the ship began visibly listing almost immediately. She watched the crew scurrying around madly as lifeboats hit the water. _Dunkirk_ began firing its big guns at the mechas, but their speed and reaction time was too great. They split up and started targeting the destroyer, painting the deck with destructive beams of coherent light.

The redheaded ace was enjoying the sight until she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned her attention to the smaller ship that had been trailing behind the other two. A lone object had lifted off the deck and headed directly into the WARLOCK's line of fire. From this distance, even Charlotte could make it out. Unmistakably one of the MAGI units. Sometimes she hated being right.

As fires erupted on the deck of the Dunkirk, fire suppression teams began running about, trying to deal with multiple incidents. But it was the action in the air that riveted the attention of the Liberion ace. One of the WARLOCK's nailed the MAGI squarely and the smaller mecha shrugged it off as if it were nothing. Charlotte's eyes widened in disbelief as the MAGI unleashed its own weapon, a beam of dark purple that obliterated the larger mech instantly. It didn't dissolve… it simply vaporized.

 _"Christ on a bike!"_ she thought in alarm as the MAGI turned its attention to the remaining mecha, _"We barely held our own against the WARLOCKs. How the_ _ **hell**_ _are we going to stand up to those things?"_

The final WARLOCK was done in just as quickly and Charlotte felt the bile rise in her stomach as she anticipated herself as next on the hit list. Instead, she watched with great relief as the MAGI immediately returned to the ship it had launched from.

The smaller ship sat calmly astern of the chaos surrounding it. _Dunkirk_ was still dealing with multiple fires and other damage-control maintenance while _Euryalus_ was sinking rapidly, with both lifeboats and crew members flailing about in the water. Charlotte suppressed the impulse to go to their aid. For the moment at least, they were the enemy.

She should have felt some small satisfaction at the fact that at least one of the vessels they faced was now permanently out of commission, but it was a pyrrhic victory at best. And it wasn't even _their_ victory. It was just a fluke, pure luck that the WARLOCKs chose that moment to turn on their masters. And not at all comforting that their savior was going to be turning all that fire-power loose on them soon.

" _Still… thank God it was over for the moment."_ Wearily, she turned and headed back to their encampment.

* * *

The squad was assembled and their commander was assessing everyone's physical condition and state-of-mind. All of them were pretty spent, Charlotte included.

"How's your ammo holding out, Mister Mallory?"

"Still got over three-quarters left ma'am. 'Bout 280 rounds, ah'd reckon," the young man responded.

"Lucchini, everything square with you?"

"All good Shirley," the twin-tailed pixie answered. "Just pretty darned tired."

"How about you, Lynne? Everything okay?"

"Huh?" Lynette said with a startled voice, tearing her gaze from the mouth of the cave. "Oh… yes. Fine. I'm fine. Everything's fine."

It was obvious. as Charlotte continued the debriefing, that Lynette's mind was somewhere else entirely, her eyes continuously darting over to the cave entrance, her body fidgeting nervously. She decided this was enough for one night. Everybody needed some downtime badly.

"Alright, we're done here. There won't be any more action tonight. On top of everything else, they have too much on their plate to launch any more attacks right now. You all need to decompress. Hate to say it, but tomorrow is going to be even worse. I know it won't be easy, but try to get a good night's sleep, okay? You're dismissed."

Lynne immediately sprinted towards the cave to be reunited with her beloved.

* * *

The sounds of the intense battle had made their way into the cavern where Yoshika lay recovering, jarring her out of her drugged stupor and frightening her immensely. While she had been in terrifying situations before, this was entirely different. They had always been when the young Fuso girl was in full control of her faculties and could use her fear to sharpen her senses and fuel her combativeness.

But now — injured and helpless, unable to fully shake off the effects of the morphine she had been injected with, not knowing what was happening to her friends or her lover — the fright was almost too much to bear. Especially since she had not yet recovered mentally or emotionally from the Neuroi's psychic rape.

The sudden silence that ensued did nothing to squelch that fear. Was Lynne all alone, injured or dead while she was just lying there worthless? Suddenly she was desperate to find her love. Simply sitting upright took almost every bit of strength she possessed. Her head was swimming and her vision blurred in and out of focus. Standing was out of the question, so she instead began to slowly and painfully crawl towards the tunnel that led to the main cavern. The effort re-opened some of the wounds on her arms and torso and fresh wells of blood began to soak through the dirty makeshift cloth bandages.

The sound of footsteps approaching caused her to try to lift her head up, but as she did, blackness began to swallow her vision. Lynette rounded the corner and gasped in horror upon seeing the little Fuso maiden struggling to crawl across the cavern floor, just as she began to lose consciousness again.

The honey-brown haired beauty ran forward, covering the distance between them in an instant. "Oh, God! Yoshika, what are you **doing**?"

"i have to find…" the younger girl mumbled, half-conscious. "i have to protect her. i promised…" Her fevered murmuring stopped as she fell unconscious once more.

 _"Oh, Yoshika!"_ Lynne thought in affectionate exasperation. _"You may be the most incredible person I have ever met, but my goodness… whatever am I to do with you?"_

Gently she picked up the injured girl and carried her back to the pile of emergency blankets she had been resting on.

* * *

It was an autumn moon, low and full and bright. Charlotte stood on the edge of the cliff above the cave entrance, watching while the crew of the _Dunkirk_ continued their damage-control efforts on into the night. Pulling out the precious half-stogie that she had been hoarding, she lit it and stood in quiet contemplation while she continued to observe the proceedings across the water. On the ground below, Vince and Francesca wearily made their way back to the cave.

Vince looked up to see Charlotte's form silhouetted against the gibbous moon. She stood proud and erect, puffing her cigar, flight jacket flapping in the light breeze. As he looked at her, the silhouette wavered in his mind's eye, the hair becoming shorter, the body leaner.

His breath hitched. "Bill…?" he whispered.

Francesca followed his gaze and immediately understood what was happening. The enormity of his sorrow over Bill Fiske's death was finally starting to hit him. She had noticed a while ago that the two senior pilots shared startlingly similar traits and personalities. He was looking at Charlotte but she knew that he was seeing Corporal Fiske.

Vince turned to look at her and Francesca's heart knotted up at the expression on his face. He looked like a lost child…a lost and frightened child. His body trembled as he fought to contain the emotions welling up inside of him. "Aw… damn it Lucchini. He's gone. He's gone…"

The young man was trying so hard not to allow his grief to overwhelm him. His face strained with the effort he was putting out to keep it all bottled up inside. Francesca could see he was becoming unbalanced. Gently, she put her arms around him and helped guide him to a seated position on the ground.

She could tell he was about to lose the battle so, placing her hand on the back of his head, she guided it to her shoulder. He couldn't hold it in any longer. His eyes swimming with tears, he finally let it all go. Francesca didn't try to offer words of comfort…there were none to give. But she knew he needed this. He needed to cry it out in order to move on.

* * *

Yoshika awoke with a start. Confusion was her first emotion. Why was she lying here covered in blankets? Her last memory was crawling across the hard, rough ground trying to find Lynette. How did she end up here? A gentle, familiar voice pulled her from her disoriented thoughts.

"Yoshika, I'm so glad you're awake. How are you feeling?"

"lynne?" Yoshika asked, not quite sure if she could believe her eyes.

"Yes, it's me. Can you see me?" The older girl questioned with some trepidation.

"hai. i can see you."

Lynette let out the breath she didn't even know she was holding. "Oh, thank goodness! I've been so worried for you. I was afraid that…I was so afraid… that you weren't going to come back to me. Do…do you remember what happened?"

The young Fuso girl shuddered. The emotions that tore through her were so foreign. Helplessness, shame…these were feelings she had never really had to deal with before. Of course, she remembered. How could she forget allowing that horrible creature to use her? How could she forget the terror and pleasure and desire of _wanting_ to be used? She felt sick to her stomach and a strong impulse to curl back up inside herself and shut the world out forever.

"hai…" she answered weakly, her eyelids beginning to flutter. "… i remember…"

"No!" Lynne said firmly. "Don't you dare. Don't you dare leave me again, Yoshika Miyafuji! I won't have it! I need you so much, baby. I need you with me. Please don't go away again."

"but you don't know…what happened…what i did…"

"Yes, I do know. I saw it all. I felt it all. Don't you remember _that_?" Lynette questioned in earnest. "I was with you in the darkness. I told you then that it wasn't your fault. It tricked you… took advantage of your exhaustion and confusion. There was nothing you could do."

"you were with me? i thought…i thought i dreamed that. how? how did you…?"

Lynne gave her a warm smile, filled with the love she felt.

"atashi no motto mo taisetsu na hito," she answered softly. "For you, I can be brave. For you, I can be strong. For you, I can do anything."

Removing her uniform top and necktie, she unbuttoned her shirt and knelt down next to the makeshift bed, sliding underneath the covers. The Britannian girl gathered her lover up in her arms and they simply lay there in the silence, cuddling close. Eventually, she raised up a bit and kissed Yoshika lightly on the top of her head. "Have you tried healing yourself at all?"

"hai. i can access my powers but i can't apply them. i… i can't… focus properly," the brunette answered shakily.

Lynette gently caressed Yoshika's face and brought her into a deep, passionate kiss. Purely by intuition or instinct, she initiated the empathic bond once more — this time, entirely of her own volition. The young Fuso maiden looked around in wonder as she found herself floating in an empty grayness, occupied only by idealized versions of Lynette and herself.

 _'what is this?_ '

 _'This is us, together,'_ Lynette answered lovingly. _'Let me be your focus. Pour your energy into me and let me give it back to you.'_

Yoshika concentrated and a ribbon of energy emerged from her astral form and flowed into Lynette, flaring and then flowing back into the younger girl like a river. To an outside observer, in the real world, it would have looked as if Yoshika's powers had suddenly manifested. Instead of the usual bright bluish-white dome of energy that manifested, an intensely blue skin-tight aura that clung tightly to the bodies of both girls.

With the help of her most important person, Yoshika began the difficult process of self-healing.


	14. The Pure Rugged

****A/N:**** Welcome back. Please enjoy this chapter. ** **  
****

"Strike Witches hajimaru yo!"

 **The Pure Rugged!**

* * *

 _"It is evil things we shall be fighting against, brute force, bad faith, injustice, oppression and persecution."_ ~ Neville Chamberlain

 **- _September 27, 1943  
_ \- _IFS Akane — Location: Eastern Baltic Sea  
_ \- _18:30 Hours_**

 _Akane's_ operations room was unusually busy for the late hour. Operations and tactical officers bustled about making constant adjustments to the wall map and the big board — the to-scale table display showing _Akane's_ position relative to their objective.

Gathered around a large conference table off to the side were Brigadier Briggs, Admiral Nishimura, a hefty assortment of department heads and the present members of the 501st JFW. First Lieutenant Aisaka Taiga, one of Nishimura's most trusted tactical officers, currently held the floor.

"Up until the engagement started, we were pretty much shooting in the dark, but thanks to all the radio chatter, we were able to pinpoint their location and we are en route now. Our ETA is just shy of four hours."

"What about my people?" Minna interjected.

"There were two pilots airborne during the engagement. One was positively identified as Captain Yeager; the other, from the description given, was most likely Ensign Lucchini. There was ground-based fire from two, possibly three, sources. The MAGUS suits were not part of the battle."

"So the only thing we know for certain is that Yeager and Lucchini are okay. Judging from Eila's divinations, two people are dead and one injured, we just don't know which ones," Mio stated grimly. "If Miyafuji and Bishop are alright why weren't they in the air? If the MAGUS pilots are alright, then why weren't they?"

"This is pointless," Minna concluded. "There's no way to know what's happening until we get there. Beyond that, we hope for the best and prepare for the worst." She looked across the table at Gertrude. "When we arrive, Trude, I want you to take a small boat to that atoll and try to make contact with them. Take Eila with you."

"Yes, ma'am."

The commander of the Strike Witches sat back and let out a frustrated sigh. "… four hours…"

* * *

 **- _September 27, 1943  
_ \- _Unidentified_ _atoll in Orussian coastal waters  
_ \- _23:00 Hours_**

Sleep wouldn't come to Charlotte, no matter how hard she tried. Things had quieted down considerably in the enemy flotilla and, although it appeared that work crews would continue repairs into the night, there was really no sense in continuing to watch. She knew she was correct in her assessment that there would be no more enemy action to worry about until well after dawn. Watching them wouldn't gain a thing. Restless, she strode around their base camp and, ending up at the mouth of the cave, decided to look in on her juniors and see how they were doing.

The two youngest of the group were sleeping. Francesca half-sitting, propped up against the cave wall holding Vince's head in her lap, his tear-stained face now relaxed in repose. She had heard the boy finally break down earlier and had wisely ignored it, allowing her partner — his friend — to provide the comfort that she, as his commanding officer, could not.

Although she obviously wasn't nearly as close to Bill Fiske as Vince had been, his death stung her, as well. Beyond the fact that she felt partially responsible for the man's death, she had developed a real connection to him as a kindred spirit. She wasn't about to break down and cry about it. She had already lost her family and childhood friends, comrades in earlier postings…too many people close to her to get worked up over something like this. But, goddammit, it really sucked that things had played out this way.

You couldn't help becoming friends with the people you worked and spent time with every day. In wartime, that meant you couldn't avoid being sad or hurt…someone you cared for inevitably was going to leave or die. Knowing that ahead of time did nothing to alleviate the pain involved when the inevitable actually happened. She was glad Vince had a friend like Francesca to turn to when the pain became too much to bear.

And, speaking of pain, what of her other two charges? Was Lynette making any progress helping Yoshika get through her very real and present anguish? She had to admit to herself that seeing the tiny Fuso girl hurt so very badly disturbed her at a gut level. And after Lynne had explained to her exactly what had happened, she felt she had yet one more reason to hate the Neuroi on a personal and visceral level.

Now that her eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting, she noticed, from the rear of the cavern, a soft bluish-white glow cutting through the darkness — Yoshika's magic. Was Yoshika finally together enough to heal herself? She didn't want to disturb the two girls, but she couldn't help being curious. Finally she decided to take a quick peek. Just enough to assure herself that everything was alright.

The sight that greeted her wasn't quite what she expected…and even though she knew that she was witnessing something very personal — something that was _definitely_ not meant to be seen by others — she couldn't take her eyes off the very intimate and, quite frankly, very erotic scene before her.

The bodies of the two girls were pressed so tightly to one another they seemed to be melded together, enveloped in a magical aura. Lynette's fingertips gently tracing Yoshika's wounds, leaving trails of liquid-blue fire in their wake. Judging from the gasps and moans she was hearing, the process was not unpleasant for either one — quite the opposite, in fact. The intensity in their gazes, the passion in their kisses, the obvious longing and desire in their touches…

Charlotte had seen more than enough and reluctantly pulled back, leaning against the wall of the cavern to catch the breath she was unaware she had been holding. The Liberion ace had been around the block a few times in her young life and there were not a lot of things that could fluster her. But that had been, without doubt, the hottest scene she had ever witnessed.

She couldn't help but chuckle under her breath. Whatever challenges awaited the two young lovers in their future, their sex life was not going to be one of them.

Leaving the girls to their own devices, still restless as hell and _now_ with a mental image she just couldn't shake off, she strode back outside the cave and took a deep draught of chill night air. An irregular sound breaking through the background noise of gently crashing surf caused her to come to attention. Oars cutting through water and the murmurs of some very familiar voices. Invoking her spirit animal, she listened closer, judging where the sound was coming from.

 _"Impossible!"_ she thought _"How would they know we needed them? How would they even know where to come?"_

Impossible or not, she had to believe the evidence of her own ears. Renewed hope singing within her, she began to quickly make her way down to the beach.

* * *

"Can't you go any faster?" Eila Juutilainen griped at the broad-backed Karlslander manning the oars of the small lifeboat carrying two Witches on a mission.

"I'm not _'uff'_ Yeager, for God's sake," Gertrude Barkhorn huffed. "I'm built for power, not _'uff'_ speed. You don't like it, why don't you _'uff'_ take a turn?"

Eila sat back and swallowed whatever retort was coming to her lips. She definitely did not feel like rowing. "Well, at least I don't foresee anything happening within the next few hours."

"You know, I've always _'uff'_ wanted to ask you…" Gertrude continued, "… how does that work anyway? Your precognition, I mean? You _'uff'_ predict _some_ events with such certainty, you're accurate enough that you've _'uff'_ been called to sit in on strategy sessions at Central but you've never _'uff'_ predicted the outcome of any battles or _'uff'_ anything when it comes to, say, us on the spot."

"It's complicated," Eila answered seriously. "It's not like I have a direct window to the future or something like that. It's more like interpreting variables. Those tarot cards I throw? There is no inherent power in them. The real power lies in my ability to foresee major junctures that lie ahead in the… well… time-stream is the easiest way to describe it, although it's not technically accurate."

"My sight gets overloaded with information from the various 'threads' of future I foresee. The cards are kind of like shorthand notes. They fall the way my subconscious tells them to fall… I read the results and make a determination. My high percentage of accuracy stems from my ability to read the variables, figure out the most likely ones and make a correct determination more often than a wrong one."

"And how _'uff'_ does that answer _my_ question?" Trude asked.

"It's because of the amount of variables involved in a given situation," Eila answered. "Certain events have so many possible outcomes that predicting them is literally counterproductive. Plus…" she hesitated, "…the very act of predicting the outcome of a battle we are about to engage in has a very real possibility of affecting the outcome of that battle negatively."

"How so? _You_ obviously _'uff'_ use precognition in battle to dodge enemy fire. I've _'uff'_ long since noticed you use your shield rarely, if ever."

"That's…a completely different situation," Eila answered seriously. "Look, imagine I tell the squad 'We're going to win this one.' Everyone goes out with the assurance that we're going to win and, as a result, even if it's subconsciously, everyone is a bit too relaxed or not as on-point as they should be," she finished grimly. "The variables change. Splat!"

Both girls were silent for a long moment.

"Don't you think if I had any way to make sure you guys were all safe I'd do it?" Eila finally blurted out in frustration.

"Yeah," Gertrude answered soberly. "Yeah, I get you, Eila. Sorry."

* * *

They had taken the long way around and landed on the far southern side of the cove, out of sight of the ships moored off shore. The two were just beaching the small boat when a shadowed figure stepped out of the thick brush. Eila addressed the person without even bothering to look up and see who it was.

"Hey, Yeager. Glad to see you're in one piece."

" 'Bout time you guys showed up. What kept ya?" Charlotte responded without missing a beat.

"Well, you know…" Eila responded dryly, "we had to find an aircraft carrier lying around that no one would miss…"

"I'm glad you're okay, Yeager." Gertrude impatiently chimed in. "But what about the others?"

"Yeah," Eila added. "Don't mean to be blunt, but who died?"

Charlotte sobered up noticeably. "Corporal Fiske and Lieutenant Hughes."

"And…? Something else happened, right?" the precog pressed.

"Yeah, I was getting to that. Miyafuji was pretty seriously injured."

"Yoshika was?" Eila gasped in surprise.

Gertrude's eyes narrowed. When the young Fuso girl first joined them, she had been quite cold to the new recruit. But Yoshika had more than proven herself to the terse Karlslander, both as a soldier and as a person. She consequently now felt quite protective of the girl who reminded her so much of her dear sister.

"Miyafuji? What happened? Is she alright?"

"She's…alive," Charlotte answered carefully. "She's in pretty rough shape, honestly, but I think she'll be okay eventually."

"What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?" Gertrude began angrily.

"Look," Charlotte sighed. "Not now, okay? Just…not now. We have other matters to deal with."

She motioned the others to follow and began leading them to their encampment. "Come on. We'll compare notes and bring each other up to speed."

Since concealment was no longer an issue, Charlotte had gotten a small fire going, which the three now took a seat around. "Let's just let the others keep on sleeping for now, okay? Believe me, they need it."

"How about you?" Eila questioned.

"Eh, I'm fine," Charlotte answered, stretching and cracking her back. "I could use about a gallon of coffee, though."

"Well," Gertrude said, opening the rucksack she had dragged along and pulling out a thermos jug. "I can't help you with the gallon part, but I did bring some coffee along."

"Hot _**damn!**_ " Charlotte cheered. "Barkhorn, you are my new best friend!"

Gertrude snorted, handing the thermos over to the eager Liberion. "Yeah, yeah…whatever."

* * *

 **- _September 28, 1943  
_ \- _IFS Akane — Anchor-down in Orussian coastal waters_**

"… so, you're saying that on the _day_ our planet was invaded by mysterious aliens from outer space, there existed a group of people who came together and said _'Here's our opportunity to take over the world?'_ " Minna asked in an incredulous tone.

She was sitting in the officer's mess along with Briggs, Nishimura and Mio Sakamoto, as they awaited word from Gertrude and Eila about their missing friends.

"Yes," Briggs responded. "I am saying exactly that."

"But the depth that this has attained, the actual power these people now control…how could things come to this? How could something like this even happen?" The young commander snorted in frustration. "It seems almost surreal."

"In retrospect, I don't see how something like this could _not_ happen," the brigadier answered her seriously. "Even though we are all theoretically allies, as you know, that wasn't the case until the Neuroi showed up on our doorstep. And, believe me, the ideological differences that existed still remain. The biggest problem is that those ideological differences are no longer constrained by national boundaries."

"How do you mean?" Mio questioned over the rim of her coffee mug, arching her eyebrow. Minna and the admiral also leaned in to listen with interest.

"Well, take Maloney for example. He certainly does not represent either official or cultural Britannian ideology. But he has been able to find like-minded individuals and groups — 'underground nations' for lack of a better term — to bolster his views and foster his agendas."

He sat back and re-lit the pipe he had been cradling most of the evening. "Maloney seems representative of this, in particular, as I believe I have a pretty good idea of his character. He is a creature of envy. Jealous of others' power, be it wealth, standing, or rank, while grabbing up as much power as he can for himself. "

"I would imagine he has those feelings of jealousy and envy even more so for Witches, as you represent power that he can never attain." He paused reflectively. "At any rate… 'How could it happen?' It's because, as a military organization, we have become too compartmentalized. No nation was willing to take a back seat and let another lead. As a result, the compromise, at least on the surface, was to let every nation have an equal say in all facets of military operations. Of course, in reality, the Big Four — Liberion, Britannia, Karlsland and Orussia — still run things underneath it all. And the East Europan Bloc is still the East Europan Bloc, after all."

"Yes," the Strike Witches CO acknowledged. "I get that. But how does what you're saying relate to the question at hand."

"Relax, commander. I may be going at it in a roundabout way, but I'm getting to it." The old brigadier continued. "Central Command has become too top-heavy. To the point where the left hand doesn't know what the right hand is doing. The obvious result is the massacre that Lieutenant Hartmann showed us happening in that Orussian village, without Central Command's knowledge."

He let those words linger in the air as he re-stoked his pipe. "I'm pretty damn sure I know who at least three of the upper-echelon moles are. Marjorie always tells me I should rely on my instincts more often."

"I've looked over those reports Lieutenant Hartmann pulled together. You have too, right Noboru?" he gave a questioning glance at Nishimura. The admiral nodded in acknowledgment. "Troop movements…personnel transfers…re-deployments…all done slowly and quietly. I think they've been at it for quite some time."

The ship's com whistled, interrupting the narrative. "Brigadier Briggs, sir. I have an 'eyes-only' message here for you from Colonel Hollister."

"Okay son, be right there." He turned to face Minna. "Would you mind tagging along with me? There are still some things I want to discuss with you."

"Of course, sir. Mio, I'll catch up with you in a bit. As soon as the girls get back from their recon."

"Sounds good," her second-in-command waved off.

"Major Sakamoto," the admiral turned to address her. "I have to get back to the bridge but I wanted to let you know, I've a small shrine set up on deck 3. You are welcome to use it if you wish to meditate before you go into battle."

Mio smiled gratefully. "Thank you, sir. I'll take you up on that."

* * *

Minna followed Briggs below decks, heading for the radio room. "So, brigadier, I can't help wonder why we are anchored within visual distance of the enemy flotilla and they don't seem to notice us?"

Briggs laughed. "Ah, that. Well, we have a pretty fool proof counter-detection system in place. Come, let me show you."

Entering the communications room, the brigadier led Minna to an isolated corner where two girls, looking to be around 14 or 15 years old, were seated around a work table playing a card game.

"This is our counter-detection system. The Holloway twins here, provide a cloak for the ship."

Minna was intrigued. "Illusion-casters?"

"Of course not. Illusion-workers are psychic-based. They need contact with the mind of those they wish to misdirect. No, these girls are both spatial manipulators. They are literally bending the light waves around the ship."

Minna brightened. "An invisibility screen?"

"Spot on!" The brigadier grinned back. "And these two girls are the most talented of their kind out there. Although I may be a bit biased in my opinion. They _are_ my great-granddaughters, after all." He pointed to the brown-haired girl on the left first. "That's Sarah and that's Emily."

Motioning Minna to follow him, they approached the two girls. "Emi? Sarah? There's someone here I'd like you to meet."

The girl with the lighter colored hair, Emily, looked back at them and gave a beaming smile. "Hi, Brigadier Grandpa."

"I've told you not to call me that while on duty."

While his words were gruff, his tone was that of affectionate amusement. The old brigadier leaned forward and ruffled the girl's hair.

"Yes, sir." She giggled mischievously. "Sorry, sir."

Minna was warmed by the display of affection. It had initially been just a gut instinct that caused her to trust this man after only one real meaningful interaction with him a little over a month ago, but more and more she was being given cause to believe that decision had been the correct one. Brigadier Briggs was, without a doubt, on the side of the angels.

* * *

Gertrude returned to the _Akane_ alone, Eila's spot on the boat filled with the larger anti-aircraft weapons Mallory had been carrying with his MAGUS Unit. No sense leaving them on the atoll, since they were unusable as personal arms. After instructing some crewmen where to offload the ordinance, she ran into Major Sakamoto heading back below decks. Together they made their way to the radio room where Commander Wilcke was still conversing with the brigadier and his granddaughters.

As they all sat together around the small table in the corner of the room, Trude brought them up to speed on everything Charlotte had told her about the initial Neuroi attack that resulted in the deaths of Corporal Fiske and Lieutenant Hughes, Yoshika's obliteration of the MAGUS Core fragment and subsequent injury and the opening assault that the Propaganda Squad had staved off.

"I have to say, Minna," Gertrude commented "Yeager did an outstanding job keeping everything together. And to beat back an assault like that while being at such a disadvantage…well, I'm just saying, she did a pretty damn impressive job."

Minna smiled hearing Gertrude come out and say that. She knew that the two clashed quite often. Both of them capable professionals, but with diametrically opposed personalities. Beyond the chain-of-command relationship she had with her fellow Karlslander, they were friends and she was well aware that Trude — with her always serious, by-the-book attitude — strenuously disapproved of Charlotte's carefree and seemingly frivolous approach to soldiering. She was glad to see Gertrude opening her mind a bit.

"I believe that, in this situation, we should all assemble on the atoll," Gertrude advised. "It may be a better staging area for us in the long run. Since we need to maintain radio silence, you're going to have to go there to coordinate with Yeager, at any rate."

Minna took a minute to digest this information. "Hmmm… if we are _all_ going we'll have to risk using a troop carrier…" She paused in thought. "Mio, assemble the squad, please. We need to do this sooner rather than later. I want us squared away before it starts getting light out."

"I'm on it," Her second-in-command acknowledged, standing and heading for the door. "Give me 20 minutes. I'll have everyone ready for you in the landing bay."

"You may as well go with her, Trude, unless there's anything else?"

"No, ma'am," the Karlsland Lieutenant acknowledged. "That about covers everything."

"Alright. Dismissed."

Mental gears spinning, she turned to address Briggs as she eyed the two young girls still playing cards in the corner. "General, do you think it would be possible to get some of the same cover the ship has for our trip over to the atoll?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "Sarah? Can you handle cloaking _Akane_ alone for a bit while Emi escorts the 501st to the atoll?"

"I won't need to, sir. We have an effective mesh range of 1.5 kilometers. We can support each other and easily cover the ship and the troop carrier at the same time. No sweat," she answered with a confident smile. "Right Em?"

"Right-o," Emily confirmed. "Got it covered, Brigadier Grandpa."

Briggs grinned, beaming with pride. "Good show, girls."

* * *

Charlotte and Eila sat in front of the fire chatting, while they waited for Gertrude to come back with Commander Wilcke and the rest of the squadron. Francesca emerged from the cave rubbing her eyes sleepily, with Vince following close behind.

"Who are you talking to Shir… _holy crap!_ _**Eila?**_ " Suddenly wide awake, she launched herself at the new arrival, tackle-hugging her, causing Eila to fall backward off of the log she had been sitting on. They both landed on the ground in a heap.

"Oh my god this is so great when did you get here where's everyone else you missed everything you should have seen us kicking ass they were all like 'whoosh' and we were all like 'zam' 'kapow' and they were all like 'eeerrrrrrr BOOM' and then they sunk one of their own ships which was actually kinda cool and oh hey did you bring any chocolate I'm dying for some chocolate."

"Jeez, get **off,** " the overwhelmed Suomus pilot griped, laughing as she pried the Romagnan pixie's arms from around her shoulders. "A month on the road hasn't changed you a bit, has it, ya loon?"

"Lieutenant umm… Juutilainen, right?" Vince questioned, reaching out his hand to help her up off the ground. "What are you doing here?"

Francesca punched his arm lightly, grinning from ear to ear. "They're _**all**_ here. The 501st. I _**told**_ you they'd come to rescue us. _**Ha!**_ "

"That's right," Eila confirmed. "We're all here, as well as the Imperial Fuso aircraft carrier _Akane_."

"I hate to tell you this, but that isn't going to be much help," Charlotte interjected. "You have no idea what we're up against."

"Yeah, we kinda do," responded Eila. "We have Ursula Hartmann with us, so we know everything that you figured out up until now _and_ what we're up against. Those MAGI things, right? We've been briefed. Besides, we have more than just the _Akane_. There is a bunch of ships en route from Riga as we speak. They should be here by morning."

"You haven't seen these things in action," the Liberion ace said seriously. "Two rogue WARLOCK took out a light cruiser, did major damage to a battle-class destroyer and one MAGI wiped out both WARLOCK with no effort at all."

The discussion ended as the remaining two members of the squad emerged from the cave to join them, Lynette leading Yoshika, who was now wearing Lynne's sweater vest and wrapped in a blanket, doing her best to avoid making eye contact with anyone.

Eila was shocked by the sight of her. She couldn't believe the difference in her squad-mate. It looked as if Yoshika were a hollow shell of her former self. Whatever had happened to her, it was obvious there was more to it than just a battlefield injury. Curiosity and concern vied for dominance in her mind. Ultimately, she decided to say nothing. Making eye contact with Charlotte, she saw the Liberion simply shake her head sadly.

" **Yoshika**! You're _**walking**_." Francesca shouted happily.

The girl in question cringed slightly at the loud exclamation, stopping dead in her tracks. Lynette turned and gently placed her arm around the little Fuso girl's shoulders.

"Please don't shout, Francesca," Lynne admonished quietly. "She's not yet fully recovered."

Charlotte took a good, hard look and knew it was true. Although most of the horrible scarring seemed to be gone, some of the visible wounds still looked a bit tender. But more telling was the way Yoshika was carrying herself. Even though surrounded by friends, the Fuso maiden seemed extremely skittish. It was quite evident to her that the young girl's spirit had been completely broken.

She made the determination, then and there, that Yoshika would not be joining them in this battle.

Eila passed out the rations she had brought along with her, and the squad members enjoyed the first actual meal they had eaten in over 24 hours. Sitting around the fire, they continued the discussion… although Yoshika didn't speak a word or have a bite to eat, no matter how much Lynne coaxed her.

The tiny brunette stared into the fire, seemingly disconnected from what was going on around her until feeling her love's arms gently wrap around her. Charlotte smiled softly seeing the tension visibly flow out of Yoshika's body as the Fuso girl relaxed into Lynette's warm embrace. Watching the tender scene reminded her of a passage from one of her favorite stories from childhood. One she had requested her grandfather read to her over and over.

 _"Love conquers all."_

She had believed it to be true then, and she still believed it. Yoshika was going to be alright. They were _all_ going to be alright. She was determined to make sure of it. She had already seen too much pain, too much suffering…too much death.

They _had_ to make it through the upcoming battle. Not only for Yoshika's sake but for _everyone's_. The whole goddamned planet. That evil dipshit Maloney and whatever organization was pulling his strings had to be taken down — quick, hard and permanent.

Eventually, the Liberion Witch heard the motor from the troop carrier approaching, letting her know that the rest of the wing had finally arrived.

— — —

Greetings were exchanged all around, as the 501st were happily reunited with their missing friends, the happiness marred by the obvious proverbial elephant in the room. Everyone could sense the radical change in Yoshika's demeanor, but nobody seemed willing to acknowledge or discuss it directly. During her debriefing with Minna and Mio, Charlotte gave them the upshot of what had happened to the girl, but, in her attempts to be discrete, she apparently wasn't able to convey the true extent of Yoshika's injuries, as Minna seemed to think Yoshika appeared well enough to join them in battle.

"I respect your opinion, Shirley, and I will keep it in mind. But let's hear what Miyafuji herself has to say about it. She's normally so gung-ho that we have to hold her back," Minna stated confidently. "It may well be that you are trying to be too careful, which is understandable. This is your first command mission, after all. I know what a huge responsibility it can be"

"As you say, commander," Charlotte responded uneasily, as they rejoined the group.

"Miyafuji, Captain Yeager feels that you are in no shape to fight. Would you agree with that assessment?"

Everyone else fully expected Yoshika to protest with her usual vigor. Instead, the young Fuso girl kept her gaze firmly on the ground.

"Hai." she answered quietly.

The squad members looked at one another uneasily. This was _not_ the Yoshika Miyafuji they had all grown to know and love. It was heartbreaking to hear that once energetic and confident voice sound so timid and broken. Minna quickly realized that she may have pushed too hard.

"All right," the Karlslandian commander responded, trying to downplay her surprise. "Why don't you sit this one out, then?"

Hearing Yoshika choking back a sob, she hurried to reassure the young pilot. "Hey, it's okay. You did well, Yoshika. Captain Yeager told me what a great job you did. You've done your best. Just like you've always done. You just rest. We'll take care of this one, okay?"

Yoshika nodded silently, still avoiding any eye contact. She made no sound but, even so, a few teardrops escaped her clenched eyes and splashed thickly in the dirt at her feet. Minna felt terrible for not listening more closely to what Charlotte was telling her — or rather, what she _wasn't_ telling her.

"Are you sure you're not just coddling her, commander?" Perrine interjected. "She looks alright to me."

" _She looks_ _ **alright**_ _to you?"_ Lynette thought. She balled her fists in anger but kept silent. _"What part of her looks all right you… you…_ _ **bitch**_ _."_

"You're out of line, Lieutenant Clostermann," Minna answered sternly. "This is not your decision to make. And I don't recall ever 'coddling' someone under my command."

Unfortunately, for whatever reason, Perrine just couldn't leave it alone. "So, the Great Miyafuji isn't so great after all," she smirked. "Maybe this will teach her not to come off so high and mighty all the…"

* _ **smack**_ *

The Gallian pilot's words were cut short as Lynette quickly strode up to her and slapped her as hard as she could with her open palm. The resounding crack of flesh on flesh was followed by Perrine flying backward and landing on her rear end in the dirt. All other conversation stopped, as everyone's attention was grabbed by the drama playing out in front of them. You could hear a pin drop. Lynne glared down at the older girl with unconcealed rage.

 **"Get up, Perrine!"** the Britannian ace snarled. **"Get up so I can knock you back down again."**

The Gallian officer sat on the ground, dumbfounded, rubbing her face where the young Britannian had slapped her.

"Wha-what? What did you do that for, Lynne? How _**dare**_ you strike me?"

Lynne wasn't having any of it.

"Ever since the day she arrived, you have been on Yoshika's back. Making fun of her, insulting her, berating her. And even with all of that, she still tried many times to reach out to you and be a friend."

Her glare grew more intense. "The truth of the matter is that you're jealous of her…you envy her…because you know in your heart that in spite of your breeding and your background and your education, she is a better person than you will _**ever**_ be."

With that, she spun on her heel and returned to the side of her beloved, leaving everyone else stunned at the display from the normally quiet and reserved Britannian pilot. Charlotte looked down at the indignant Gallian who was still rubbing her sore cheek, looking rather abashed, and commented wryly, "Oh, by the way, they're dating now…"

* * *

In the end, Commander Wilcke ordered Yoshika to return to the _Akane_ on the troop carrier, while the rest of the 501st prepared for the upcoming battle. Lynette received permission to escort the injured pilot to the beach. They walked slowly, if for no other reason than to prolong their time together before they had to part.

"Ne, Lynne. Am I a coward?" Yoshika asked in a quiet voice.

Lynette was stunned by the question. "Of _course_ not," she quickly responded. "You have been through an extremely traumatic experience, something that would probably break most people. You've been badly injured. And the mental torture you experienced… you know, a lot of other people in your position would not even be able to function right now."

"But I feel like I'm abandoning you. I can…I can still fight. Physically I'm almost fully healed. But…" She paused, struggling to put her feelings into words. "… I feel like I want to crawl out of my skin. When Lucchini-chan shouted earlier, it scared me half to death. It really scared me. And the thought of facing the Neuroi again…"

She drew a deep, shuddering breath. "What if they try to take me over again? Why am I the only one this has ever happened to? They've been on Earth for years now. I've never heard of anyone being controlled like that, have you?"

The Britannian girl shook her head.

"I don't know what to do, Lynne." Against her will, the tears began once again. "I feel like I've lost a huge part of myself. I feel as if it took me and part of me didn't come back."

Lynette took the smaller girl in her arms, silent for a moment as she decided how to best verbalize what she was thinking.

"You know, after my Aunt Ellen rescued me from my father, it took me years to even begin to behave halfway normally," the Britannian responded seriously. "And it was only very recently I found the courage to fully be me again. And it was mostly because of you." She placed her forehead against Yoshika's own. "Without you, my love, I may have never found my way back to myself."

"But I did." Raising her head, she gave Yoshika a confident look. "And so will you. I know you will. And I'll be with you every step of the way."

The little Fuso maiden hugged Lynette tightly, burying her face into her lovers ample bosom. "Don't die, Lynne! Please don't die. I don't want to go on without you. I **can't** go on without you."

Lynette gave Yoshika the same confident smile the younger girl had always given to her when the odds seemed stacked against them. "I don't intend to die. Even if you aren't there, you'll still be with me. That alone will keep me strong enough to do what I have to." She wiped away her girlfriend's tears. "I don't want to go on without you either, you know? I'll fight better knowing you're safe. Okay?"

They embraced tightly. Yoshika leaned her head onto Lynette's shoulder. "Can we stay like this? Just for a little while?"

In answer, the honey-brown haired beauty drew her even closer, the distant surf crashing in the background the only sound in their world.

* * *

Emily Holloway returned to _Akane_ with the empty troop carrier and a lone passenger. Although the young Britannian sailor tried to engage Yoshika in small talk, the shell-shocked Fuso maiden remained resolutely silent.

Emily felt badly for the girl. Although they had never met, she had heard some anecdotal tales about her from the others, and this shivering girl with her was not the person they had described. She couldn't help but wonder what had happened to cause such a radical shift in personality. In retrospect, she realized that she probably didn't _want_ to know.

She had noticed while on the atoll that Sergeant Miyafuji had kept mostly silent the entire time. Only becoming vocal and agitated when Commander Wilcke insisted that she return to the _Akane_ , both for her own safety and to keep her from being underfoot while the rest of the squadron did their jobs. She seemed horrified at the prospect of being separated from Sergeant Bishop.

 _"Her girlfriend?"_ She wondered. Most likely, considering the way they had been interacting with one another. Sergeant Miyafuji practically had to be dragged away from Sergeant Bishop when they left. Her fellow Britannian had looked so worried as the landing craft launched into the choppy waves…

There was a jarring thump as the troop carrier was maneuvered into _Akane's_ hold. Once the boat was firmly anchored down, Emily gently took Yoshika by the hand and helped her out onto the deck.

"I'm sorry, sergeant. I'd show you to your quarters, but I have to get topside and make my report. Your squad-mates cabins are on deck 3, cabins E through K. If I remember correctly J was reserved for the four of you and K was for the gentlemen. Your effects were brought along, so you can get a change of clothes," she informed Yoshika helpfully. "Can find your way? Or shall I call a deck-hand to guide you?"

The Fuso pilot finally broke her silence "I'll be fine on my own. I'm pretty familiar with carrier layouts," she answered quietly. "Arigato Holloway Jōtōhei."

Emily gave her an encouraging smile and nodded in acknowledgment, then headed for the bridge where her sister and grandfather were awaiting her return.

Yoshika watched silently as the younger girl left, and stood motionless for awhile collecting herself. Eventually, she began to shuffle towards the stairs leading below decks.

There were crew-people milling about, all preparing for the upcoming showdown and all too busy to disturb or attempt to help Yoshika — for which she was very grateful. Everything since yesterday had happened in a blur. She needed silence and solitude so badly. She needed to sort herself out.

She knew that, unless she pushed past this trauma she would be a changed person. And she didn't **want** to change. Not in _**this**_ way. She had observed patients with disassociative disorders in the past, at her family's medical clinic back in Yokosuka. Some of those patients had, of course, been victims of rape.

Now she knew what it was like to experience that first-hand.

Her thought processes were slowly returning to something approximating normal. She was beginning to have serious second thoughts about not participating in the upcoming battle. As she walked down the companionway, the bulkheads seemed to close in on her, making her feel somewhat claustrophobic. She was suddenly overcome with the desire to fly.

From the very first time she had donned a Striker Unit, she had fallen in love with flying, with the freedom and exhilaration that came from soaring above the clouds. Flying made her feel truly alive, and she desperately wished for that feeling right now.

Soon she was standing in front of her assigned quarters. Heaving a deep sigh, she opened the door and entered the empty cabin. Picking the closest bunk, she lay down and stared at the ceiling, lost in thought. Why was the Core fragment able to do to her what it did? True, Neuroi had assimilated people in the past — a localized version of what a Neuroi Hive did when it melded to the land and spread its deadly miasma. But she had never read any reports of a Neuroi doing…what it did to her.

But that only meant there was no documented record of such an incident. Every other person that had been assimilated had died, their bodies converted into raw mass with no way to know if there was any mind control involved. Actually, no. Now that she thought about it, it seemed every record of Neuroi conversion she could think of noted that the victims fought against it to their last breath.

Why didn't _she_ fight it? What was different? The nature of her powers, perhaps?

When Yoshika healed someone, it took every bit of her concentration. To clear her thoughts and focus on the complexities of the human body, it was necessary for her to use a form of self-hypnosis to block out distractions from the outside world. Could that be what left her so open and vulnerable, allowing the Core the ability to take control of her mind?

She had left the door wide open and in it came. Was that the key? Was that the answer? If so, then maybe… just maybe…

If the open-door analogy was correct, then perhaps she had just found a weakness in the Neuroi's defenses. After all, an open door can be entered from either side.

* * *

Brigadier Briggs finished reading the written message Commander Wilcke had sent back with his granddaughter. They now had a coordinated battle plan to work from…barring any unforeseen circumstances, of course. Commander Wilcke was proving herself to be an excellent strategist.

"Nice work, Emi! I'm quite proud of you."

Emily smiled happily. "Thank you, sir."

In the midst of this exchange, a loud crackle of static filled the bridge.

 _ **"Attention! Unidentified aircraft carrier anchored off our starboard. This is Major-General Trevor Maloney of the Optimal Order. We know you're there. Our main gun batteries are trained on your position. If you do not respond immediately we will open fire."**_

"Impossible!" Sarah Holloway squeaked. "We didn't make any mistakes, sir. I swear we didn't. How can they know we're here?"

"Hush, dear." the old brigadier rumbled. "I can think of a half-dozen ways, off the top of my head. I know it isn't your fault. All you girls can do is mask the visual spectrum. They are carrying Neuroi with them, in the form of their mechas, and we already know that Neuroi can read electromagnetic signatures."

"We knew, going into this, that your abilities would only buy us a limited amount of time," he reassured his granddaughter. "You both may as well drop our cloak and catch your breath. We'll be needing you for that other thing, soon enough."

 _ **"Acknowledge now. This is your final warning."**_

Briggs nodded his head toward the bridge communications officer, who opened the channel.

"I see you've given yourself a promotion, Trevor. And shed your spots as well."

 _ **"Douglas,"**_ Maloney responded. _**"I was hoping it would be you. It will make this victory all the sweeter."**_

"That is quite a bold statement coming from a traitor such as yourself."

" _ **I'm not here to debate philosophy with you, Douglas. I am here to crush you and those damnable Witches and anyone else who gets in our way. I consider you and the rest to be the traitors. Traitors to the human race,"**_ Maloney ranted in malice. " _ **The current multi-national defense force is ineffective. You are practically giving our planet to the Neuroi. This fractured world needs to be unified. Under one rule. Our rule."**_

"We know what you're up to, Trevor. We know what you are attempting to do," Briggs answered firmly. "We are here to put a stop to it."

 _ **"The difference being that we are here with official sanction and you are not,"**_ came Maloney's reply, the unseen smirk on his face evident in his voice.

"Enough shilly-shallying," Briggs responded, with an edge to his voice. "Let's get down to brass tacks. General Trevor Maloney, I am formally ordering you to stand down and present yourself for disciplinary action."

Maloney snorted in derision. _**"What an uninspiring epitaph. Goodbye, Brigadier Briggs."**_

The radio transmission abruptly cut off. Admiral Nishimura wasted no time in response. Grabbing the bridge mic, he flipped it to all-call, at the same time slapping the large red button on the main console.

"Attention, all hands! Battle stations! Repeat! Battle stations!" he ordered. "All pilots prepare for immediate launch. All gun batteries, light 'em up and keep 'em hot!"

As the red alert klaxons blared, Nishimura turned to his long-time friend.

"This is it, Douglas. We are committed."

Briggs wearily rubbed the bridge of his nose. "God help us all."


	15. Nor the Battle to the Strong

****A/N:**** Welcome back. Please enjoy this chapter. ** **  
****

"Strike Witches hajimaru yo!"

 **… Nor the Battle to the Strong!**

* * *

"In queste mani tremanti c'è il coraggio di un fiore reciso… affiderò tutto a questo sentimento e il mio desiderio risveglierà la luce."* ~ Ancient Romagnan Love Sonnet — Author Unknown

* _In these trembling hands the courage of a cut flower…entrust all this feeling and my desire awaken the light._

 ** _\- September 28, 1943  
\- IFS Akane — Eastern Baltic Sea  
\- 07:21 Hours_**

When everything started happening it happened all at once. The flight crew scrambled to clear the decks for launch, even as the fighters themselves began to taxi. Even over the blare of the red-alert klaxons, a series of distant muffled explosions could be heard. The first barrage from _Dunkirk's_ heavy gun batteries screamed through the salt air, only to be stopped dead by _Akane's_ own on-board Witch contingent of shield generators.

Not all Witches were flyers, after all, and prior to the development of the Striker Units, Witches had been deployed to act as shield generators and lead defense with ground-based army units and naval battle groups. That practice had, thankfully, never been discontinued.

Every Witch had the ability to generate a shield in addition to whatever inherent abilities she naturally possessed, so even non-fliers could still contribute massively to whatever unit they were assigned. And there were, of course, the so-called 'Tank Witches', mostly assigned to the Afrikan front. Ground-bound Witches were assigned tasks that suited their inborn talents, as Sarah and Emily Holloway had been during this mission.

As much as Admiral Nishimura wished to have a squadron of Witches stationed onboard his aircraft carrier, the cold, hard fact was that there simply were not enough seasoned aviator Witches to spread around. Virtually all Witches who flew Strikers were stationed at various air bases around the world. This deployment made sense, considering the Neuroi's seeming aversion to large bodies of water. Logistically speaking, in excess of 90% of the battles fought took place on or over land.

The girls of the 501st were going to have their hands full as it was, being the main force deployed against the ridiculously overpowered MAGI units — they had neither the personnel nor the firepower to defend the _Akane_ from conventional attacks on top of everything else they had to deal with.

This was going to be the battle of their lives. D.W. Briggs had no illusions otherwise and he had known this from the get-go. This traitorous alliance, this 'Optimal Order', had been outed prematurely and — like a cornered animal — now had no choice but to put everything they had into this engagement. And the stark truth was _Akane_ was here under false pretense while _Dunkirk_ and the rest of Maloney's little fleet was here under official sanction.

After doing some in-depth reading of all the materials Ursula Hartmann had provided, specifically the troop re-deployment records, the brigadier was positive that those crewing the opposing ships were not simply random military personnel duped into a battle they knew nothing about. The troops they now faced were almost certainly all members of the Optimal Order, loyal to Maloney and committed to victory at all costs.

If _Akane_ and the 501st were defeated here, Maloney and his cohorts could put any spin on the story they wished to. A loss here would most likely mean that the balance of power in the Allied Command would permanently shift. Instead of being a madman's delusion, this 'new world order' would become a harsh reality.

It was, quite literally, the fate of the world that was at stake. And almost no one in authority was even aware of it.

— — —

The red alert had also been patched through to Minna's command frequency. The 501st was in the air almost immediately but not quickly enough to stop what happened next.

In the wake of the first heavy gun bombardment, the MAGI had taken flight and headed directly for the aircraft carrier. It quickly became apparent that they were targeting the flight decks. Shields bearing the runes of the various Witches generating them covered the entire port-side stern of the ship. Only nine fighter planes managed to lift off before two of the MAGI managed to punch through the defense shields, obliterating the top two flight decks and rendering the third completely unusable. As quickly as that, whatever tactical advantage _Akane_ had possessed was lost.

At face value, it seemed laughable. When it came to raw firepower, _Akane_ had a distinct advantage as well as a full compliment of 44 fighter/bombers. The battle-class destroyer _Dunkirk_ had been converted to a carrier, with a single flight deck carrying a compliment of 10 fighters and two reconnaissance planes. She was also crammed to the gills with heavy ordnance.

 _Dunkirk_ had originally been configured with five QF MK III four-inch naval guns — each of which fired a 31-pound, 101.6mm shell — and eight BOFORS 40 anti-aircraft guns. But, as it would quickly become apparent, she had been through a refit during her last dry-dock. _Dunkirk_ now sported six QF MK V 4.5-inchers…the same guns _Akane_ was outfitted with.

The upgrade was significant, as the MK V had the ability to fire a 55-pound, 113mm armor-piercing shell. What Admiral Nishimura and the _Akane_ crew couldn't know was that, in addition to larger guns and more of them, _Dunkirk_ had been upgraded to the MK 37 Fire Control system — much more efficient and accurate that the MK 35 system _Akane_ currently used.

With the destruction of _Akane's_ flight decks, they only had nine birds in the air…and that was all they were going to have. Equipment-wise, the two forces were now, for all practical purposes, evenly matched. Beyond all that, Maloney had four mostly-untried MAGI mecha, while Nishimura and Briggs had ten battle-tested Witches to field. How this was going to play out was, at this point, anyone's guess.

* * *

Yoshika was aware that, for the first time since she had been violated, she was now thinking clearly. That clarity brought introspection. For someone who generally followed her emotions and wore her heart on her sleeve, the Fuso girl could be quite analytical when it came to reasoning out a problem. Because of her upbringing, she had always been able to determine the underlying "why" of things. Cautiously but curiously, she examined the memories of the assault once more. As she did, she could hear Lynette's voice in her mind…calm and certain, her love's words, reassuring and as warm and bright as the summer sun.

" _It wasn't your fault, Yoshika. There was nothing you could do."_

Yoshika had long since known that there are many ways to affect the human psyche, but the quickest and most effective way is chemically. She had read about such things before…brainwashing, behavior modification and mind control — medical experiments for benign purposes and military experiments for purposes much darker.

The creature's attack was much too precise to be blind luck. It had used just the right chemical and psychic triggers to draw her subconscious mind into a receptive, submissive state and overwhelm her conscious mind with unceasing pleasurable physical stimulation.

" _It wasn't your fault, Yoshika. There was nothing you could do."_

Her thoughts had become slow and dull…in mere seconds she had forgotten everything. Her home, her family, her childhood, her friends. She had forgotten Lynette. In mere seconds, _**it**_ had taken away everything that she was and left her with nothing but the lights and the colors and the music and the voice. They filled her and pushed out everything else. Without Lynette's, intervention she would have been lost forever.

She had to stop there. She had to stop remembering. Her body trembled with both revulsion and desire, like an addict going through withdrawal.

" _It wasn't your fault, Yoshika. There was nothing you could do."_

The experience was still horrific. It still made her feel dirty and used. But she knew now that it hadn't been a moral weakness on her part. It had been a physical weakness, merely proving that no matter what else she was — no matter how powerful she was — she was still only human.

The hurt and pain were still in her memory, but the crushing _guilt_ was gone. It _**wasn't**_ her fault. There was _**nothing**_ she could have done.

Yoshika was indeed the child of her parents. Her mother, a powerful and respected healer — knowledgeable, spiritual, calm and intellectual. Her father, on the other hand, could only be described as a mad genius — brilliant, intuitive, insightful, warm and witty, and always cheerful.

Although Yoshika had been quite young when her father had left for Britannia to head up the Striker Project, while he still lived at home she had spent almost every waking minute that she could by his side. She had observed even his setbacks and disappointments — admiring the way he could acknowledge and move onward, always optimistic.

The young Fuso maiden exemplified the best traits of both her parents. However, in both looks and temperament, she most closely resembled her father and it was _that_ part of her that held dominance once more.

It had happened. It was over. The worst part of the attacks' aftermath was the feeling that she had somehow betrayed Lynette. But Lynne understood what had happened. Lynne knew and was still supporting her, still by her side. A calm warmth spread throughout her soul, knowing that her love still loved her — even though she herself had been overcome with the belief that she had been tainted beyond redemption.

Her introspective contemplation was suddenly shattered. She bolted upright upon hearing the red-alert sirens blaring. Then the first salvo hit. Not enough to rock the ship, but enough to make the mirror over the washbasin and the metal struts in the bunk hum with sympathetic vibration.

" _Kami-sama! I'm not ready for this."_

She quickly pushed that thought aside.

Lynette was out there fighting…fighting for _**her**_. And all the others, as well. Her squadron. The crew of the _Akane_. The tiny ace suddenly realized with absolute certainty that she could not just sit there cowering in her cabin. If she didn't want to become helpless and dependent — a worthless person — then she had _damned_ well better start acting like herself again.

Regardless of how deeply she had been hurt, how badly she had been damaged, she _couldn't_ — she _**wouldn't**_ _—_ leave them to face this alone. It simply wasn't in her nature. She had to help, however she could.

What could she do? Here? Now?

It was time to find out.

* * *

Throwing the cabin door open, Yoshika took a brief instant to get her bearings and then sprinted towards the stairwell that led topside. She needed to see what was going on. As it happened, she emerged on the top-most deck, in a section towards the bow of the ship.

Planes from both sides filled the air. Only a stylized double "O" — stenciled in red paint on the nose and tail of some of the aircraft — served to differentiate the enemy's planes from the _Akane's_ own fighters. The cacophony from bullets, anti-aircraft guns, and air-to-air missiles cut into Yoshika's brain like a knife. Above all of that, a noise that was very recognizable after months of fighting against the Neuroi — the unearthly screech of particle beams slicing through the air.

A tremendous explosion astern rocked the giant carrier heavily and Yoshika had to grab a railing as she scrambled to keep her footing. Looking to her rear, she saw two of the MAGI hovering above the destroyed flight decks, thick columns of smoke filling the air.

The remaining two MAGI were engaging both the squadron from _Akane_ and **her** squadron — her _**friends**_. Desperately, she searched the sky and soon spotted the love of her life fighting alongside everyone else. The brave Britannian was giving it her all, and Yoshika couldn't be prouder. It was time for her to step up and do the same.

The bustle of activity caused the young Fuso pilot a moment's hesitation as she tried to determine what she should do to be of the most help. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed someone she recognized. It was the girl who had brought her here on the troop carrier, Emily Holloway. Yoshika was unsure of what the girl's power was until she witnessed it in action.

As Emily's hands gestured upward, Yoshika's eyes followed the direction of the movement. A MAGI had targeted two of _Akane's_ fighters, but before the particle beam could reach either airplane it simply disappeared. At that same instant, a similar beam erupted about a quarter-mile distant, shooting harmlessly into empty air.

" _A portal of some kind. Spatial displacement?"_

The young Britannian continued to throw portals up, preventing any of the energy-based attacks from hitting their marks. Yoshika could tell, after observing for a few moments, that the girl only had a certain amount of control over the exit vector of the generated portals. She was sending any discharge she could catch well away from the battle. It appeared as if precise targeting was beyond her, leaving out any possibility that she could make those beams work in their favor by targeting, say, the other MAGI Close range manipulation seemed to be out of the question.

Unfortunately, although the mecha were mindless, they were obviously not brainless. They quickly zeroed in on where the displacement effect was coming from. Both converged on Emily, targeting her with a blast from two different directions at once. Yoshika yelped as she dashed forward, throwing up the strongest shield she could manage to cover for the overwhelmed space-bender. She grunted from the force of impact but her shield held.

Emily looked around to find out the identity of her savior.

"Sergeant Miyafuji?"

"Don't stop, Holloway Jōtōhei! I've got you covered."

Emily Holloway had a half-dozen questions spring to mind, topmost of which was, how could this girl be fighting when she had left her looking as if she were ready to crawl into a hole 45 minutes earlier? Shaking off her amazement, Emily once more focused on the battle raging around them. She was still being targeted by the two MAGI while trying to keep an eye on the rest of the forces out there.

The particle beam weapons employed by the MAGI packed significantly more punch than the Neuroi version did. Yoshika pumped more energy into her shield in an effort to allow Emily the time and concentration she needed to effectively handle the situation. On the upside, two of the MAGI were no longer harassing the conventional forces. On the downside, they seemed determined to wipe out Emily and, by extension, Yoshika.

With their attention focused on their own battle, neither Witch nor mecha noticed as one of the 501st suddenly broke formation to come screaming downward at incredible velocity, targeting one of the two aggressors.

Francesca pushed a layered series of concentric shields in front of her, ranging from about 7 feet in diameter closest to her, down to about 2 inches wide at the tip of the energy-based construct. With battering ram effectiveness, the tiny twin-tailed Witch punched through the armor reinforcing the MAGI and shattered the Core within, moving at such a great speed that she was barely able to check her downward motion before hitting the water.

Pulling up at the last instant she skirted the waves and flew upward once more, passing them by. Spotting Yoshika on the deck as she climbed to rejoin her squad-mates, she grinned widely and waved frantically at her friend.

* * *

Although actively participating in the battle, Minna stayed above the fray for the most part. Her primary job was to coordinate and deploy. Following Francesca's sudden maneuver, the Karlslandian commander watched with an equal measure of pride and annoyance as the girl returned to her place in the formation. She waited until Francesca had rejoined the rest of the squadron before admonishing her for going off on her own without permission or warning.

"Ensign Lucchini, do **not** pull a stunt like that again. At least let someone know what you're planning before you go running off half-cocked like that. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am. Sorry 'bout that," Francesca answered in her usual lighthearted tone. "It's just that I saw an opening I couldn't resist. And, oh hey, Yoshika's back on the job too. She's on deck, fighting alongside that girl who was with us earlier. You know, Hollywhatsit."

Lynette's eyes widened in alarm. Looking towards the besieged _Akane_ , she tried to spot her girl. Hearing that Yoshika was participating in the battle was enough to shake her soul and throw her off her game. Her love was supposed to stay safely out of harm's way.

She tried to convince herself there was no way the young Fuso girl could be well enough to join the battle in any fashion. But, in her heart, she knew it was true. No matter what had happened to her earlier, the love of her life would — in the end — be true to herself. Lynette Bishop was a person of faith…faith both in Yoshika and faith in a higher power. It was to that higher power she breathed a silent prayer.

" _Please God. Keep her safe. It's all I ask. I love her so much. I need her so much. Please watch over her."_

Charlotte knew Lynette was shaken by the news. She had expected it the instant she heard Francesca's comment. The Liberion ace was of the opinion that Lynne didn't need a dose of Commander Wilcke's "tough love". She needed a friend to give her gentle encouragement and keep her spirits up.

"Lynne! Stay with it, kid! Miyafuji will be fine. But she won't be if anything happens to you. Copy?"

"I copy," the young Britannian answered gratefully. "Hey, Shirley? Thank you. Not just for this, but for everything."

"That's what friends are for," Charlotte responded lightheartedly. "Well, that and to bum money from. C'mon, let's finish these sons a' bitches so you can get back to your 'waifu'."

The 'waifu' comment both warmed Lynne's soul and made her laugh outright. Smiling in gratitude, she responded with a quip of her own. "Right behind you 'Oh captain, my captain'."

The Liberion ace grinned as it occurred to her that Lynette was developing a sense of humor.

* * *

Vincent Mallory felt completely ineffectual as he watched the battle playing out over the waves. The air above the two ships was crowded with dogfighting aircraft, Witches and mecha zipping about like a swarm of angry bees.

He had a huge honking gun and close to 300 rounds of ammo. Fat lot of good that did if there was nothing to shoot with it. Although the action was taking place within the range of the Bofors-L60, it was on the extreme edge of said range. It'd be like shooting spit-wads. He desperately wanted to be out there. He wanted to be with Lucchini and Captain Yeager and Sergeant Bishop. They were his squad-mates. They were his **friends**. It was so damn frustrating being stuck there just watching and unable to lend a hand.

Being so focused on the aerial engagement, Vince didn't even notice that he was standing almost knee-deep in the surf until he felt something bump into his leg. Startled, he looked down to see a piece of flotsam that looked…manufactured. Looking in the direction from which the object had hit him, he saw another and yet another. His gaze followed the trail of debris.

Raising his head he was greeted with a sight that caused him to grin happily…two fighter planes, obviously from the sunken _Euryalus_ , caught in the incoming tide.

Although one of them was half-submerged — the cockpit open and the nose and port wing underwater — the second one bobbed gently in the surf, like a boat. Vince chortled happily. It was a de Havilland Mosquito, one of the few operational front-line aircraft of the modern era to be constructed almost entirely of wood. In fact, Royal Air Force pilots had nicknamed the plane "The Wooden Wonder."

Without a second thought, the young Liberion pilot dove into the ocean, swimming eagerly towards the waiting aircraft. Soon, he was grasping the wing and hauling himself up out of the frigid water. He took a moment to catch his breath, looking at the battle once more as he did so. He was just in time to see Francesca's devastating plunge destroying one of the attacking MAGI.

" _Damn, sis! Nice one,"_ he thought with admiration. " _Lessee if ah can help y'all out a bit."_

Throwing the canopy back, the callow southerner slid into the pilot's seat and switched on the electrical system. The gauges sprang to life. Fuel topped off, guns primed and ready. Obviously, this plane had been prepped for take-off before the ship had been hulled.

" _Sweet! It's a Mark II!"_ A grin spread across his face as the instrument panel gave him the full inventory. " _Four 7.7mm Browning's in th' nose an' four Hispano Mk II cannons. And b'cause a th' wooden fuselage, it's one'a th' fastest production models out there."_

" _Ah'm sure Cap'n Yeager'll approve,"_ he chuckled to himself.

The engines roared to life. Switching on the radio, he tuned to the frequency the Propaganda Squad had used while on tour — figuring correctly that it was the same frequency used by the 501st under normal battle conditions.

"Commander Wilcke? This is Vince Mallory."

"Make it quick, Private Mallory. We're kind of busy here," Minna responded politely but tersely.

"Yes, ma'am. Thing is, ah've commandeered a fighter. Requestin' permission ta join ya."

Rather than give an immediate response, Minna switched to the tactical side-channel.

"Shirley."

"Yes, commander?"

"Your Mister Mallory has somehow gotten his hands on an airplane. I want your assessment. Will he be an asset or a hindrance?"

Charlotte gave the question a moment of serious consideration.

"He's a good kid, Minna. Follows orders, takes proper initiative…I would say that he'll be an asset," she answered confidently. "Plus, he's pretty simpatico with Lucchini. They can team up while Lynette works with me. I say, let him join."

The extended silence worried Vince slightly, causing him to assume he was going to be refused. After what seemed to him like an eternity, a crackle of static filled the cockpit.

"Permission granted, Mallory. You are to partner up with Ensign Lucchini. Take your lead from either Captain Yeager or Major Sakamoto," Minna ordered. "Be careful out there. And thanks for the help."

"Thank _you_ ma'am," Vince answered enthusiastically. "Ah'm on ma' way."

Revving the engines, he began his taxi. The small aircraft skimmed the short, choppy waves like a stone skimming a brook. As he flew towards the battle, a small figure looped up and out and began to fly towards him. The silhouette was easily recognizable.

"Hey sis. Wha'cha know?"

The sound of the Romagnan' giggle filled the cockpit. "Hey Vince. Where'd you jack the ride?"

"Umm…would ya believe ah jus' _found_ it?"

"Yeah, I would, actually," the twin-tailed pixie answered. "Listen, go into a holding pattern for a minute, will you? I see something that needs attention before you jump into the middle of things."

Although confused, Vince did as she requested. Francesca came up along side him and pulled a knife from its sheath on her belt. The large fixed-blade fighting knife had been a gift from Shirley, an authentic Alamo-style Bowie knife — a collectors item, now that Texas was, for all intents and purposes, a giant hole in the ground.

"Sis, what'r ya doin'?" Vince questioned.

Francesca came even with the nose of the aircraft. Using the flat edge of the blade, she began scraping at the Optimal Order insignia that had been painted on it.

"Trying to save you from being taken out by our own guys, dummy."

"Oh! Yeah, right," the young southerner laughed sheepishly. "That'd prolly be a good idea."

"Say, did you know this thing is made out of wood?"

"Yeah, ain't it cool?"

* * *

General Maloney watched the battle proceed from _Dunkirk's_ command deck. So far, he was satisfied with the way things were progressing. The successful destruction of _Akane's_ flight decks at the start of the battle had leveled the playing field. Four of the nine enemy aircraft had already been destroyed and, although none of the Witches had been taken out yet, it was only a matter of time before they would fall as well.

He was eager to claim a decisive victory and regain the status he had lost with his masters. Although ostensibly in command of this mission, Maloney still answered to the leaders of the Optimal Order, two of whom were currently onboard the _Dunkirk_ in the role of 'observers.'

Josef Mengelé stood at the window of the Command Office, watching the battle unfold, noting with satisfaction how flawlessly the children of his brilliance were performing. The MAGI were a wonder to behold. Swift. Efficient. Deadly. Completely unimpeded by weaknesses such as compassion or doubt.

Perfection. Optimal.

Success would mean that his vision would be vindicated. He could foresee an army of MAGI, crushing any opposition, maintaining order and control, with the alien menace harnessed to achieve their goal… _his_ goal.

The other occupant of the cabin wasn't nearly as interested in the battle as he was in his own agenda.

"You've instructed those machines of yours how to handle my daughter, right Mengelé?"

"Of course, William. She will be taken alive, although I cannot guarantee she will be uninjured," He paused for a moment in thought. "Although, if I may say, if she _is_ injured it will make her conditioning and re-education that much more effective."

Lord William Bishop, the Duke of Glys, smiled in anticipation of being reunited with his estranged daughter. Although he had been politically invested in the Optimal Order from the very beginning, providing the connections and resources they had needed, the opportunity to retake possession of Lynette had always been in his mind, as well. He had patiently awaited the day when circumstances would allow him to resume the special relationship he had enjoyed with her when she was a child.

So submissive. So obedient. He could still remember how sweet she tasted. He knew she had not been sullied by any other man. She may have cut all ties with him, but he had always known exactly where she was and exactly what she was doing. A man with his power and position had eyes and ears everywhere.

He knew that she had become emotionally close with another member of her squadron…that filthy little Fuso slut. He wished he had thought to have her taken alive, as well. Killing the girl in front of his daughter would further break her spirit and ensure that she was his once more. His puppet. His toy. Just thinking about it was enough to make him hard.

If Doctor Mengelé was aware of Lord Bishop's motives, he made no indication of it and, in truth, wouldn't have cared. Sex, love, desire…these were motivations that he had no concept of. He cared only for the supremacy of his intellect and the acknowledgment of it.

To him, people were just things. Means to an end. Tools for him to use. In those ways, he was a kindred soul to the Duke of Glys.

* * *

Eila Juutilainen's precognition was a double-edged sword. Her primary ability allowed her to see hours, even days, into the future and sort out upcoming variables of whatever subject she chose to focus on, while her secondary ability allowed her to see and avoid actual upcoming events a few seconds ahead on her personal timeline. In battle she always fought with her secondary ability invoked, which allowed her to anticipate where an enemy was going to be — explaining her high degree of accurate hits — and avoid enemy fire, explaining why she rarely used her shields.

The downside, of course, was that she was always slightly out of sync with the rest of the squadron during a battle, since she was seeing events anywhere from a half second to five seconds ahead of everyone else. It made coordinating with everyone a bit dicey, although she now had almost 2 years of practice compensating for that glitch.

In a nonchalant fashion, she let loose a salvo into empty air, the space occupied by the enemy an instant later, slamming into her bullets with no chance to escape. Impossible to dodge a shot that has already been made, after all.

One of the MAGI _***had fired*was firing now*was going to fire***_ at her position in 4.2 seconds. As she broke her trajectory to dodge, she suddenly saw that Sanya _***was taking*would take*had taken***_ the blast square on, her atoms scattered to the winds. The precognitive Witch was _not_ dealing with multiple variables this time. There were only two, very clear, outcomes. Either she took the hit herself or Sanya would die.

There was no thought, only reaction. No thought was needed. She would give her life to save Sanya's anytime. Diving back to occupy the space she had just vacated she placed herself between Sanya and the MAGI, throwing her shield up to cover them both…an action she was unaccustomed to.

Never had she regretted her lack of reliance on her shield more than she did at this moment.

The attack was successfully deflected away from Sanya, however, a substantial amount of dark purple energy bled through Eila's shield and she screamed in agony as her clothing began to smolder, the alien energy tearing at her flesh. The pain and shock caused her to lose concentration, her engines cut out and she plunged into the frigid waters below. Sanya noticed too late that her partner had just saved her from certain death.

"Eila? **Eila!** "

The hardest part of Minna Wilcke's job was when she had to act cold and hard. It went against her natural instincts, which were to be nurturing and caring. But being hard and cold was the only way to keep discipline, to make sure that every single one of her precious people made it through the tough battles alive. She knew exactly the kind of relationship Eila and Sanya shared, and knew the emotions that must be ripping through the soft-spoken Orussian as she watched her lover fall from the sky. Unless Sanya kept her focus on the battle around her, she would be the next casualty.

So Minna did what had to be done…she put on her stern commander's persona.

"Lieutenant Litvyak! You still have a job to do. Stay on point. The med-evac teams will get her."

Sanya did her best to put her worry aside and keep on with the fight. But it wasn't until she saw _Akane's_ rescue boat pick Eila up that she was able to focus her full attention on the battle again.

* * *

Yoshika had been trying to follow the 501st's portion of the aerial engagement while continuing to defend Emily Holloway. The tiny brunette watched Eila deliberately dive in and take the hit meant for Sanya. Observing the crew of the evac boat as they hauled Eila out of the water, the young healer knew from their actions that her squad-mate was still alive. By the time they had made their way back to the ship, Yoshika had already made her decision.

"Holloway-chan, I need to get to the sickbay. I'll find someone to run shield interference for you. Will you be alright in the meantime?"

"No problem Sergeant Miyafuji," Emily assured her. "I'll be okay. Go help your friend. Thank you for saving me."

Yoshika nodded in acknowledgment and dashed off to find an _Akane_ Witch to provide cover for the spatial distorter. After that task had been accomplished, she raced below decks towards the medical unit. It did not even occur to her that she had completely forgotten about her own injury…there was simply too much to do. She was needed, and that was the only thought that now occupied her mind as she slid down the railing of the stairwell leading to deck 2 and rounded the corner towards the medical bay.

A gaggle of nurses and interns were startled by the sound of the doors to the sickbay slamming open.

"Lieutenant Juutilainen! Where is she?"

The head nurse was about to scold the stranger for bursting in like that until she saw the stern, serious expression on the girl's face and thought the better of it. Instead, she pointed to the double doors in the back of the cabin that led to the operating theater. Yoshika wasted no time rushing in to find her injured squadmate, who was already on the table.

Major Lance Kessler, _Akane's_ lead surgeon, realized immediately that the girl in the Fuso seifuku wasn't a member of the crew. He was therefore puzzled by the fact he recognized her from somewhere. Then it came to him. The passengers the admiral had picked up on the way here. She was a member of the 501st Joint Fighter Wing — the famous Strike Witches. And since she was here in sickbay, he quickly figured out her identity.

"You're Yoshika Miyafuji, aren't you?"

He received a curt nod in response.

"Your reputation precedes you, Sergeant. I have her internals under control but I'd very much appreciate you giving me a hand with her burns. They're rather severe. Your power could accelerate her healing and reduce the risk of vascular infection."

"Yes, sir," Yoshika responded seriously. "That's why I'm here, sir."

"Very good. Go wash up then. Nurse, please get Miss Miyafuji a set of scrubs."

— — —

The young Fuso healer hurried into the ready room to use the sterilization station, finishing up just as an intern brought her the requested clothing. Quickly donning the medical-green scrubs, she wasted no time in reaching Eila's side. The Suomus pilot was still conscious and managed a weak smile when she recognized who had taken her hand.

"Hey! Yoshika. How are you? Are you feeling better?"

"Eila-san!" Yoshika replied with an incredulous tone. "I'm fine. _You're_ the one I'm worried about. Are you in a lot of pain right now?"

"Nothing I can't handle. Whatever they shot me up with relieved the worst of it. Sure, it hurts like Hell, but it's nowhere near as bad as it looks," Eila reassured her. "Plus, I'm really not worried now that you're here. You'll fix me up good as new, right?"

"I'll do my best," Yoshika assured her.

"Well, there you go then. Besides, I think I'd know if I were going to die, right?" She began chuckling lightly, but it deteriorated into a gurgling cough.

"Ne, Eila-san, just lie quietly and let me work."

Yoshika invoked her power, but before she could begin she suddenly balked as her subconscious screamed at her to _not_ open her mind, to _not_ leave herself vulnerable. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

" _No! I can't hesitate. I have to help her. That…that won't_ _ **happen**_ _again. Not_ _ **here**_ _."_

Eila could read the struggle on the younger girls face. "Yoshika, don't push yourself, please! I understand. It's okay. I know you had a really rough time. Don't hurt yourself anymore for my sake."

Small fists clenched in determination. " _I_ _ **can't**_ _let fear rule me. I_ _ **won't**_ _let_ _it."_

She countered Eila's concerned look with a confident smile.

"I'm fine. Don't worry. I'll get you fixed up right away."

A nurse approached with a raised stool, which would allow Yoshika to sit during the lengthy procedure and still reach her patient without having to strain. Now fully settled in, she prepared to get to work.

"Eila-san gomenasai. This is going to be a bit uncomfortable for you."

"Get ready for more pain, huh?"

"Well, no. But as your skin begins to grow back, you are going to get really, really itchy. It would probably help to try to keep your mind on something else while I'm doing that."

Yoshika went silent as she applied herself to the task at hand. Eila laid quietly and allowed her friend to do her thing. In the sudden silence of the operating room, the sounds of the battle seemed amplified tenfold. There was a loud explosion above them and to starboard, jarring the massive destroyer. The sudden peal of emergency alarms indicated that a shell fired from _Dunkirk_ must have gotten through the shield wall and impacted on _Akane's_ upper deck.

Yoshika seemed unaware of it and Eila tried her best to just ignore it.

* * *

A tremor ran through the entire ship as a tremendous explosion sounded from the starboard side.

"Noboru, what just happened?" Briggs barked.

"The shields were breached. We've been taking a lot of hits…our girls are getting tired," the Fuso admiral answered, leaning forward to rest his weight on his knuckles as he tried to see as much as possible from his vantage point. "Not counting the twins, we only have nine Witches to provide shields — and they've all been going non-stop since this engagement started."

There were hits from five more shells, one of which again made it through the shields. Once more the carrier rocked with the impact.

Briggs frowned. "Where the hell is that backup we were promised?" Squinting his eyes, he looked eastward out at the empty expanse. "Come on, Hollister," he muttered under his breath. "You need to shag ass."

— — —

Minna saw the volley from _Dunkirk_ break through _Akane's_ defensive shields. Those ship girls wouldn't have the stamina of Witches who fought on the front lines and pushed themselves to their limits on a regular basis. This was a battle of attrition and they couldn't afford to lose any more ground.

" _We're going about this wrong. I made a mistake. We're already down two squad members and_ Akane _has lost three. We can't take them on all at once. It just won't work."_ She quickly reassessed her battle strategy. _"We need to eliminate their weakest players first and then focus everything we've got on the real threat."_

One of the reasons Minna Wilcke was such an effective strategist was the fact that, when she made a decision, she didn't second-guess it. But if something wasn't working, she wouldn't hesitate to scrap it and start afresh. She had split _Akane's_ six remaining fighters into two groups, three assisting the 501st with the enemy fighter planes, the other three continuously harassing _Dunkirk_. The Karlslandian commander had forbidden any of the _Akane_ pilots from engaging the MAGI unless left with no other choice.

Brigadier Briggs had given the Strike Witches commander full authority over the troops in the field, and a mandate to conduct the battle as she saw fit. She intended to make full use of the resources she had at hand. What she had in mind was, admittedly, a bit of a gamble, but when The House holds the stronger hand, a risky play is often the only logical choice. This plan would potentially leave _Akane_ vulnerable but, if it worked, the ship would only be vulnerable for a short time.

"Attention, everyone!" Minna announced, "We're going to shake things up a bit. First order of business, _Akane_ is losing starboard shield integrity. Ensign Lucchini, you're closest. Get over there and give them air support and shield reinforcement. Stay with them until you receive further orders."

"Roger that!" the Romagnan ace responded brightly, immediately peeling off to her new assignment.

"Blue 2, 5 and 12, break off your engagement with _Dunkirk_ and rendezvous with your mates in the lane. Yeager, Bishop, Mallory and Litvyak get over there and join them," Minna instructed, "All of you are to clear the airspace around _Akane_ and give Lucchini room to work. Captain Yeager is in command. Focus on bringing down or damaging _Dunkirk's_ fighters. Give it all you've got. The rest of us will keep the MAGI at bay until your task is done. If we can eliminate the aircraft from the equation, we may have a fighting chance. It's going to take every single one of us to shut those mecha down."

Charlotte and the rest rushed to support Blue squad, while Minna joined Mio, Gertrude, Erica and Perrine in facing the MAGI. They hovered in place, waiting for their leader to join them.

"All right, listen. I don't want any of you going in too hard, or trying to do it all on your own," Minna told them. "Our purpose is to keep them busy and distracted until those planes are eliminated. Once that's done we will attack those mechanized nightmares, en masse."

Although she was addressing them all, everybody knew she was talking to Gertrude in particular. The heavy-hitting Karlslandian girl tended to get a bit carried away in the heat of battle and their goal, at the moment, was to simply run interference.

 _Akane's_ barrage was being intercepted by one of the MAGI units, performing for _Dunkirk_ the same function the ship-bound Witches were for _Akane_ ; blocking any incoming fire from hitting. Therefore, a more concentrated barrage on _Dunkirk_ should help keep that MAGI's attention elsewhere as well.

"Admiral, could you have your gun batteries step up their firing rate a bit? I have a group tasked with eliminating the enemy planes and we want to keep the MAGI as busy as possible. Also, one of mine is joining your shield unit for reinforcement and defense."

"Very good, Commander Wilcke," Nishimura responded, "Just give the word."

Taking one more look at the battlefield, she nodded to herself in satisfaction. "Admiral, the word is given."

* * *

It was hard to judge the effectiveness of the new strategy immediately. The opposing pilots were good, so there was a continuous dogfight going on in the lane, with neither side scoring any effective hits. Minna and her crew were keeping two of the MAGI at bay, but the third — the one keeping position close to _Dunkirk_ — was out of their effective reach. And in-between intercepting the volleys from _Akane_ , the mecha had time to lob potshots at _Akane's_ fighters.

Minna knew that eventually those random shots would find a target and, sure enough, she had no sooner thought it then it became reality. There was a gap in the barrage and the MAGI had time to let loose with two mighty particle beam blasts, both of them finding their mark. But the result was different from the damage inflicted earlier in the battle.

The wing of one fighter crumpled out of shape — as if it had hit a solid object — but it didn't vaporize. The same with the second downed plane. The nose of the aircraft had taken a solid blow and the propeller was mangled, but still in material existence.

 _"They have a range limit!"_ Minna noted with interest. It didn't mean anything at the moment, but it was good to know at any rate. A crackle of static alerted her to an incoming transmission.

"Commander, I need to do something about that maverick or else all our guys are gonna get knocked outta the game. Permission?"

"As you see fit, Shirley," she acknowledged.

"Sanya, Lynne, _**GO!**_ _"_ Charlotte immediately ordered. "Remember, you both have ranged weapons for a _reason_. Keep your distance. Just keep the damn thing too busy to hit any more of our fighters."

After seeing those two off on their assigned task, she turned her attention back to the engagement before her, only to see that one of the six enemy aircraft had broken off from the others and was heading straight for the under-siege _Akane_.

"We got one running off the range, people. Be more aware of your surroundings," Charlotte admonished. "Mallory, take care of it."

"Ah'm on it, ma'am," Vince responded.

He broke off from the rest and gave chase, kicking himself for not noticing the enemy combatant break off the engagement. The other plane had a healthy lead on him. There was no way he was going to get into firing range in time.

" _Dammit dammit dammit dammit dammit!"_

Speed. He needed more speed. How could he get…?

His eyes fell on the control cluster and inspiration struck. The throttles had manual verniers — he could adjust the fuel/air ratio _manually_! He cranked the dial to the right, enriching the fuel mix. The result was immediate. The roar of the engine grew louder and throatier as the plane surged forward, its structure beginning to vibrate and the engine producing a loud piston knock. That was to be expected. More importantly, the distance between the two aircraft began to close noticeably.

He was almost in firing range. _So_ close…but not close enough. The enemy was going to get there first. In frustration, he let loose with a salvo anyway and, surprisingly, actually pinged the rudder. The enemy pilot immediately took evasive action. As Vince closed the gap he fired a continuous stream, hoping beyond hope to actually do some damage. He ignored the warning buzzer until, finally, the guns overheated. He watched in helpless disbelief as the enemy plane swerved and started diving full speed directly at _Akane's_ command tower.

" _ **Omagod!**_ _He's really gonna…?"_

— — —

Through the main window, one of the Optimal Order fighter planes could be seen barreling straight towards the bridge, showing no signs of veering off.

" **Everyone down!"** one of the command officers shouted.

The pilot was making a kamikaze run. Getting down would not make one damn bit of difference. Everyone there on the bridge was going to die. The old brigadier's final thought was not regret at his death, but regret that he would be unable to stop the wave of oppression that would engulf the world at their loss.

The sound of the tremendous explosion coincided with a huge ball of fire that lit everything on the bridge brighter than daylight. As the sound died out, Briggs opened his eyes in wonder. He was still alive. They all were. What the hell had just happened?

Hovering before them, outside the pane of still-intact glass, was a vision in black twin-tails and teal striped panties. Flaming bits of fuel-soaked debris from the attacking aircraft slid down the suddenly-manifested shield to drop into the ocean below. The bridge crew erupted in cheers as the tiny Romagnan ace turned to face them, giving them a cocky grin and flashing a peace sign.

The second plane came out of nowhere…

* * *

Vince smiled in satisfaction seeing the kamikaze run brought to an abrupt end by the sudden appearance of the twin-tailed terror.

" _She is the_ _ **coolest**_ _!"_ he laughed to himself, bringing the nose of his plane up into an inverse loop. As he began his ascent he noticed, for the first time, that an enemy aircraft had been tailing him. But it wasn't following him now. It was heading straight for Francesca. And her back was turned. She was completely unaware of it.

" **Lucchini!"** he shouted, too late.

The whole thing played out in slow motion. The flares from the tracers, the bullets ripping into Francesca's body, the smoke from her damaged Strikers curling upward as she plunged into the water. Hot angry tears came unbidden as he brought himself around to engage the bastard that just shot his friend from behind. Squeezing the triggers, he once more heard the empty click of the contacts, but no gunfire. A glance at the gauge told him…the guns were _still_ overheated!

Through the clear canopy, Vince could see the enemy pilot laughing. **Laughing!** The young southerner could hardly believe it was possible to feel the intense amount of hatred that swept over him like a dark tidal wave.

"Laugh at **this** ya sum'bitch!" he snarled, diving on a collision course with the enemy fighter and ejecting at the last second. The wind bit his 'chute and yanked him above the resulting explosion. He watched with cold satisfaction as the Mosquito impacted with the enemy plane. A couple of jagged hunks of flaming metal whizzed by, chewing large holes in the parachute. The young pilot dropped like an anvil.

" _Ah,_ _ **crap**_ _!"_

He did as he was trained, hitting the water feet first, in as straight an angle as he could manage. It still felt like jumping from a third-floor balcony and hitting concrete. If he lived through this, every bit of him was going to ache for days. Letting his training take over, reacting by rote, he halted his downward plunge and rose to the surface in short order. No need to panic…there were spotters, so there would be a rescue boat before long. He just had to stay afloat.

Looking around as he waited, the Liberion pilot noticed that the battle seemed less frantic. Spotting the group he had been with earlier, he noted that the four remaining enemy aircraft were in retreat. Captain Yeager wasn't having the squad pursue. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad. It _did_ seem like the shelling from the _Dunkirk_ had lessened, as well.

But it didn't make any sense. They certainly didn't have the upper hand. If anything, they were on the defensive right now. So why…

He was jarred from those thoughts by the arrival of the rescue boat. A lot quicker than expected, he thought to himself, until he saw they already had a passenger on board. _"And she's alive!"_ he noted thankfully, as he was hauled onto the deck.

"Hey, you big dummy," Francesca called out as Vince fell onto the deck in a heap, coughing water out of his lungs. "What the _hell_ was _**that**_ supposed to be?"

Rolling on his back, Vince turned his head to face her and managed a weak grin. "Sis! You okay?"

"Do I _look_ okay?" the tiny Romagnan responded sardonically.

"Nope," he replied honestly, taking in her injuries.

The tiny ace's slender torso was swathed in white medical tape. Even so, a slight amount of blood seeped through on the left side and around her abdomen. Her left arm was wrapped as well, and slung, as she had broken her arm when she hit the water. But the worst damage was her left leg. The Striker unit was heavily chewed up and it remained on her, whereas the right leg unit had been removed.

"They might have to cut it off," Francesca stated sadly, seeing Vince eyeing the damage.

Vince sat bolt upright. "Yer **leg**?" he gasped loudly.

"What? **No!** The Striker."

"Oh! Well, _that's_ good," he sighed in relief. "Jeez, Louise."

"So?" Francesca pressed once again. "What was with the whole 'crashing your plane into another plane' thing?"

"Ma guns were overheated, so ah jus' used what ah had at hand," he answered in embarrassment. His grin gave way to a more serious look and he sighed heavily.

"Ah'm sorry, sis. Ah didn' see 'im get up b'hind me 'til it was too late."

"Don't stress about it." Francesca assured him. "He came out of nowhere. Besides, I guess you got him pretty good there, huh?"

"Yeah," Vince answered quietly. "Yeah, I got 'im."

The young Liberion didn't really know _how_ to feel right now. He had taken a life. Yes, it had been in battle and had been necessary. The enemy pilot would have surely killed him, or else continued the battle and killed someone else. But that was all rationalization. In the end, he knew his true motive. Anger. Anger and revenge. He didn't necessarily regret it, but it was not something he intended to get used to.

Seeming to sense his thoughts, Francesca leaned over and placed her hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Hey, Vince. Thank you," she told him sincerely. "Really. Thanks."


	16. Codename: Phoenix!

****A/N:**** Welcome back. Please enjoy this chapter. ** **  
****

"Strike Witches hajimaru yo!"

 **Codename: Phoenix!**

* * *

"Kimi ga unmei no tenshi dayato"*  
*" _You are an Angel sent by Fate"_

 ** _\- September 28, 1943  
\- IFS Akane — Eastern Baltic Sea  
\- 07:48 Hours_**

The crew of the command deck watched helplessly, as the young girl that had just saved them all from certain death was strafed from behind. They were stunned, but only for an instant. This is what they trained for, after all. Nishimura's executive officer, Lieutenant Aisaka, was first out of the gate to spur the crew into action. She keyed the all-call from her tactical station — giving the rescue crews first priority.

"Evac teams! We've got one injured Witch in the water, directly below the bridge tower. Deck gunners…take that damn plane down _**now!**_ "

"Lieutenant, _wait_!" one of the crewman cried out.

"Deck guns, _**hold your fire**_!" she barked. "What, Komaki?"

"The five-oh-one pilot is on an attack vector," the young man announced. "He'll get caught in the crossfire."

The ensign was correct, of course. Aisaka decided to hold off while the Strike Witches' orphaned eagle took his shot, which looked pretty clean from her own vantage point. The Optimal Order aircraft wouldn't get away. The atmosphere on the bridge felt like a sporting event for a moment. Everyone was cheering Vince on in earnest as he came within firing range of the enemy plane. The cheers turned into shouts of frustration as the Liberion's fighter suddenly banked off before he could engage.

"What just _happened_?" Ensign Komaki cried out in frustration. "Why didn't he shoot?"

"Guns are jammed," Brigadier Briggs surmised. "Jammed or overheated."

"He's coming around again," Aisaka observed.

But the young pilot did more than just 'come around'. He made a High-G Barrel, ascending as he tracked his now-fleeing target. He continued to gain altitude until he caught up to and paced the enemy planes trajectory. Without preamble, he pointed his aircraft straight down on a collision course with the enemy combatant, throttles wide open. The de Havilland Mosquito streaked towards the Optimal Order fighter like a guided missile.

"Don't tell me he's going to do what I _**think**_ he's going to do," another member of the crew called out.

"Come on, lad," Briggs muttered, as the Liberion's plane neared the point of no return. "Pop the damn canopy already."

At seemingly the last possible second, the pilot ejected and was yanked free of the blast radius as his parachute deployed. Again cheers arose among the crew and, again, they were cut off prematurely as the shrapnel from the exploding planes tore through the pilots 'chute and he fell into the cold ocean below.

"Evac!" the XO called out once more. "You have a second pick-up. Non-powered combatant. Hit the water with no parachute. Respond accordingly."

"Young idiot," Briggs muttered, although he was smiling as he said it.

"Hmmm, yes," Nishimura responded with a sly smile of his own. "Reminds me of an old friend, whom shall remain nameless. He would do the craziest things with astonishing regularity."

"Yes, well…" the older man grinned.

"Sir, _Dunkirk_ seems to be recalling her forces," Aisaka informed.

One of the two MAGI engaging Wilcke's crew had split off and was escorting the three remaining enemy fighter planes back to their own ship. Captain Yeager and the other two 501st pilots were in retreat as well — moving to cover their three remaining _Akane_ comrades. The lieutenant was grinding her teeth in frustration as she watched Yeager's group return to the ship instead of going after the enemy.

" _Dunkirk's_ troops are running. Why doesn't Commander Wilcke have her people press the attack?"

"Press it with what, Taiga?" the admiral responded wearily. "If their forces are stretched thin, ours are stretched thinner. The 501st needs to rest before their powers are depleted. The remaining fighters need to refuel and re-arm. We have a break in the action. We need to take advantage of it. Commander Wilcke is making the right call."

* * *

 ** _\- HMS Dunkirk  
\- 07:35 Hours_**

"General, I am recalling the MAGI for a bit," Doctor Mengelé informed the bridge. "Have your troops return for refueling and re-ordinance, and rotate in new pilots. You will await my permission before you re-start the battle." Maloney thought he had heard the man wrong.

"What do you mean, Director? Why are we stopping?" the general snapped irritably.

"We are not stopping. We are fine-tuning. I am in no rush to end this altercation. Let them gather their strength. Let them feel like they may have a chance. In the end, it won't matter. There is valuable data to be had under field conditions. The amount of information we have been gathering since the first salvo is astounding. I want to adjust the MAGI's regeneration algorithms. Also, I believe I have found the proper frequency for the particle beams to disrupt a Witch's shield. That discovery alone will be enough to allow us to lay waste to the Allied forces, once the Neuroi problem has been addressed."

The conversation was muffled for an instant as Mengelé turned away from the receiver to speak to Lord Bishop. After a brief, unintelligible conversation the scientist's clipped, raspy voice continued.

" _Akane's_ long-range communication equipment is out of commission and they are crippled," he explained in an offhand manner. "Even if they tried to run, it would be a futile effort. They won't be going anywhere."

The scientist's icy tone grew a few degrees colder. "Let me be clear. My research takes precedent over any pissing contest you may be having with your former colleague. Make no mistake, it will be my MAGI that deliver the fatal blow. This is not _your_ battle to win General. You are simply a chauffeur. Your little troops can run interference, but this victory will be the MAGI's victory."

There was a barely audible response from the bridge, that sounded a lot like grumbling.

"Did you say something, General?" Mengelé asked in a droll tone, "If you are trying to venture an opinion, please understand that your opinion is worthless. Withdraw for now. That is an order."

"Of course, Director. Right away."

* * *

 ** _\- IFS Akane — Main medical bay  
\- 07:54 Hours_**

Eila had been moved to the recovery bay. Her damaged skin healed and the risk of infection averted. The Suomus pilots own body would take care of the rest. Afterward, Yoshika had remained to help tend to the other injured pilots and crew who had been brought in. Seven personnel in total — a small number compared to the twenty-six crew members occupying body bags in the outer room, waiting to be moved to the morgue.

Concussion, head trauma, minor contusions and shrapnel wounds took up most of her time. The surgeons did their jobs and Yoshika got them stable afterward. She was currently working on her last patient.

Just a bit more and…that was it. For the moment at least. There would be more injured as the battle dragged on, but at least she could finally sit down for a few minutes. She stepped back, brushing her hands together in satisfaction and started heading for the doctors' lounge. Before she could even step out of the room, the rescue crew-call from the bridge came over the speakers.

" _Evac teams! We've got one injured Witch in the water, directly below the bridge tower. Deck gunners…take that damn plane down_ _ **now!**_ _"_

Yoshika had no way of knowing who was going to come through those doors. Was it Lynette? Even though she wasn't religious, in the Western sense, she breathed a prayer to the Kami. When the evac team finally arrived, she received a shock. Whoever she had expected it to be, she didn't expect it to be Francesca. She felt overwhelming relief that at least it wasn't Lynne — and then felt ashamed for thinking such a thing.

The tiny brunette immediately moved to be with her friend. Francesca's left leg had been badly mangled by the bullets that had torn through the fuselage of her Striker, and she also had multiple bullet wounds on her upper torso. Dried tear trails were evident on the young Romagnan's cheeks, her skin a bit ashen and her pupils dilated, but she was now mildly sedated and was calm, managing to smile when Yoshika approached.

"Oh good. I'm glad you're here. I kinda got shot a little bit," she stated sheepishly.

Major Kessler entered the suite holding some x-ray plates, which caused Yoshika to worry a little. If the lead surgeon was taking Francesca's case it may very well be more serious than she thought it was. She waited patiently until the doctor finished studying the film. Spotting his patient and his new temporary assistant, he approached the two, nodding to Yoshika and handing her the plates, then turning his attention to Francesca.

Yoshika took a quick glance at the x-rays, which confirmed her unease. Still, she managed to keep her upbeat demeanor intact. No sense making things worse by giving her friend cause to worry.

"So little lady," the major said cheerfully, "are you ready to do this?"

Francesca glanced at her friend. "Well, I dunno…what do you think Yoshika? Is this guy a quack or does he know what he's doing?"

It was meant as a joke and the military surgeon took it as such. "Believe it or not, I've done this sort of thing before." Doctor Kessler responded with an amused tone.

"I've been working with him all afternoon Lucchini-chan. I'm pretty confident he knows what he's doing," Yoshika added reassuringly.

Doctor Kessler motioned to the two orderlies standing by to wheel the gurney into the operating room. Once her friend was out of sight, she allowed her smile to fade. Looking up, she saw the physician's equally serious expression — which confirmed what she already knew.

"You have a natural bedside manner Miss Miyafuji," Kessler stated in a low tone. "I was a third-year intern before I was able to fake it that well."

"The main artery in her leg is badly damaged," she said, more a request for confirmation than a statement of fact.

"Correct. The damage is near the main arterial branch in the upper pelvic area. She has no idea how close she came. Literally, another 16th of an inch to the right and she would be in a body bag right now. And I'll be honest with you, she still may not make it. I can do some stop-gap work but that's not going to be enough."

The young surgeon knit his brow in frustration. "We're pretty well equipped here, but this isn't Johns Hopkins. I don't have anything suited for work this delicate."

Yoshika was thoughtful for a moment. "If you can put some stents in the area, I can use them as a support structure and force the arterial cells to repair the damage. She won't be able to get out of bed for a couple of weeks, but by the time the stents dissolve and fall away she'll be good as new."

The Liberion surgeon looked at the youngster skeptically. "And you've done this before, have you?"

"I've regenerated muscle tissue and nerve ganglia. Repairing a section of artery is no different." Yoshika answered confidently. "And as for using artificial grafts to support organic repair, my obaachan is one of the pioneers of the technique."

"Wait, wait, wait. Your _grandmother_ is Akimoto Yoshiko?" Kessler asked incredulously.

"Hai."

"Huh," The young doctor ran his hand through his hair as he looked at Francesca's charts once more. Then he looked down at Yoshika and grinned. "This certainly has been a day full of surprises. Alright Miss Miyafuji, you've convinced me."

Beckoning the head nurse to start getting the room ready for the procedure, he then hooked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the double doors she had burst through earlier. "The lounge is over there. Why don't you go grab something to eat and rest for bit. Even if there are no complications we're going to be at it for a couple of hours."

He reached out, taking the clipboard from Yoshika's hands and tapped her lightly on the top of her head with it. "I'll get things started. Come on back in about 30 minutes and you and I will perform a miracle you can write home to your grandmother about."

Yoshika was very grateful that Doctor Kessler was going to do this personally. She had observed him earlier, while there were still a number of casualties being triaged. Knowledgeable and confident, with steady hands and _without_ a typical experienced surgeon's aloofness. Francesca was in good care.

Placing her hands together at the knees, she gave a deep, formal bow.

"Kessler-ihaku arigato gozaimasu"

"You are quite welcome, Sergeant. Go. Eat."

* * *

 ** _\- 08:05 Hours_**

" **Tonnere!** "

Lightning erupted from the tips of Perrine Clostermann's fingers as she strafed the _HMS Dunkirk's_ port-side forward gun emplacements — electricity arced and danced from the guns to the metal railings and deck of the ship. The gunners mates, as well as the crew in the vicinity of the energy surge, fell to the deck, either stunned or unconscious.

Although she was fully capable of generating enough raw power to melt the barrel ends of the massive guns, she hesitated to do so. Unleashing that much power would literally fry everyone around the blast. Even though this was a battle in which no quarter could be given, the young Gallian noble had never outright taken anyone's life and she was reluctant to do so now.

" _We're supposed to be fighting aliens, not killing our own people,"_ she thought in frustration.

Those downed combatants would be out of action for quite some time. There was no need to kill them. Next, it was time to take the guns firing controls out of commission. She let loose a more focused blast — this one impacting where she knew the gun battery's targeting control cluster to be — and was gratified to see a column of thick oily smoke curling into the air. Four less anti-aircraft guns for _Akane_ to worry about.

She hoped Lucchini was going to be alright. Silly, damn reckless kid. Although the tiny Romagnan was far from being the only pre-teen Witch in the Allied military, in Perrine's opinion, 12 years-old was pushing the envelope a bit. Even taking into account the accelerated maturation rate and power-surge Witches experienced in pubescence. Power, ability and raging hormones don't make up for a lack of life experience. There were war orphans, living on her estate back in Gallia, that were the same age.

Major Sakamoto approached her position, surveying the damage the Gallian ace had dealt.

"Well done Perrine. Very impressive," the Fuso major commented. "Your control is incredible. All of your practice and hard work is really paying off. Think you can take out the other one as well?"

"T-that? That was nothing…uh…I-I-I mean…" the Gallian pilot stammered, flustered by the praise her adored senior officer was doling out. "I mean, yes ma'am. I can. Take the other one out, I mean. I can do that."

"Of course you can, Lieutenant," the major encouraged, with her trademark booming laugh. "You know what I always say…"

Perrine did, indeed, know.

"There's _nothing_ a Witch can't do!" they chorused together.

"That's right. If you can take out that second gun emplacement before we retreat, we'll have an even better chance during round two. You handle that and withdraw to the _Akane_ immediately. Don't worry about the MAGI. They're going to be pretty busy. I'll see you on deck."

"Yes, ma'am."

The major peeled away and Perrine advanced on the second gun emplacement. The timing was excellent. There was currently no enemy air support to speak of. The Optimal Order planes had already left the battle and the MAGI were all engaged elsewhere. A dozen or so sailors stood their ground, firing their rifles in her direction, but most of the crewmen scattered — they had witnessed what had happened to their shipmate's a minute earlier. Their bullets ricocheted off her shield, and she let loose another massive electrical discharge.

The crewmen who had been firing at her fell to their knees, their weapons slipping from their grasp. Once more she searched for the fire control cluster. Instead of another lightning strike, she decided to try out a new technique she had been practicing. Reaching out with her mind, she found the electrical potential of the internal power feeding the panel and tweaked it, folding it back in upon itself.

The panel exploded, with a satisfactory amount of noise and a light show accompanying it. Perrine hovered in place admiring her handiwork, imagining basking in the major's praise once more…a momentary distraction that she would pay a price for. Having assessed that the crew below were no longer a threat, she took no notice when one of the downed sailors drew his sidearm and fired. She didn't even realize she had been shot until she saw the crimson bloom spreading on her shirtfront. She spun around in shock, and that movement alone saved her life. The second bullet had been aimed right at her head and had instead grazed her temple.

The Gallian ace fell backward and head-first — losing blood rapidly and finding it impossible to determine which way was 'up'. She _did_ have time to feel stupid. Time to wonder how cold the water would be. Time to wonder if Major Sakamoto would be angry with her. And even more time to wonder…was it her or was this taking longer than it should?

A wave of blackness began creeping in on the edges and as her sight tunneled she had a sudden vision. A strikingly handsome woman — a warrior — clothed in gleaming armor and radiating a serene yet unstoppable power.

Perrine knew the stranger immediately. Had worshiped at her temple since she was a child, as had her mother and generations of her ancestors before her. She was Andarta. The most powerful Celtic Goddess/Warrior in her pantheon. Racing downward from the open sky, reaching out a mighty hand to catch her. Perrine had one final thought before she passed out.

" _I didn't know the Goddess wore an_ _eye-patch_ _."_

* * *

 ** _\- IFS Akane: Deck 2 — Hanger B  
\- 08:45 Hours_**

The members of the 501st, accompanied by the _Akane_ shield contingent, filled a corner of the large open area. Everyone was crowding around the four long portable tables that were overloaded with a vast amount and wide variety of food. This feast wasn't a perk or an extravagance, it was a necessity. It has been said that an army runs on its stomach. This axiom was true for Witches, even more so. To manipulate magical energy, a metabolic catalyst is required. The application of powers which defy the laws of physics is still _bound_ by them, after all.

After an almost solid hour of expending those powers at their fullest, they were famished. Even Sanya Litvyak, the daintiest eater among them, was shoveling it in like there was no tomorrow. Minna noticed Mio finally rejoining them, returning from sickbay where she had personally carried Perrine, after catching the young Gallian girl before she hit the water.

Minna shoved whatever was handy at the table between two slices of bread and moved to intercept her. She wanted to know the situation before Mio started getting bombarded with questions from the others.

The major cast a skeptical eye at the proffered snack. "An onigiri _sandwich_? Well, that's…novel," Mio commented wryly.

"Oh, just hush up and eat it. Give me five minutes and you can go have whatever you want," she responded lightly. "How is she?"

"She'll be okay," the major assured her commander, carefully picking the smushed rice ball from out of the bread. "It was a clean shot and missed all her vital organs. She's already in recovery."

"Thank goodness. Any word on Lucchini yet?"

"They're still at it," Mio informed. "Her internal injuries are pretty bad. Miyafuji is assisting the lead surgeon. According to the nurse, they're using an experimental technique developed by Miyafuji's grandmother."

"Her grandmother?"

"Akimoto Yoshiko-san is a world renowned surgeon and a pioneer in the blending of magical and scientific medical techniques. In fact, everyone in the Miyafuji family is quite gifted. Her mother has degrees in multiple fields and runs the largest private medical clinic in Yokosuka. And of course, you _know_ who her father is."

"Doctor Miyafuji Ichiro," Minna acknowledged. "Lead developer of the Striker Program. When I first read her records, back when she joined up, I could hardly believe it."

Mio nodded solemnly. "That's why it may seem as if I'm pushing her too hard sometimes. I wouldn't do it if I didn't know she is capable of all that and more. She's a remarkable girl, and I want her to achieve all she can. And I _did_ promise her family that I'd watch over her."

Minna smiled warmly, putting an arm around her friend's shoulder and giving a gentle squeeze. "Awww, you really _do_ sound like a mom."

"Jeez," Mio squirmed in embarrassment. "Knock it off, will you?"

"So, how is Shirley taking all this?"

"About as well as you would expect. She said, like, five words to me. 'Yes,' 'no' and 'leave me alone'."

Minna sighed and gave the older girl a weary look. "Well, I'll take some food down to her and check in on Lucchin's progress. And then, like it or not, I have to get her back up here and on the job. We need every damn one of us left or we are done for. Simple as that."

She stood up straight and squared her shoulders. "I'll go handle Shirley. You make sure that everybody doesn't get complacent after they gorge out. We could have to scramble at any time."

"I'll take care of it," the major assured her. "Quickest way to the wards is to use that stairwell on the left as you go out the door, and go down two levels. Believe me, you can't miss it. Miyafuji's pumping out so much energy, you can see the glow from the hallway."

* * *

 ** _\- IFS Akane: Deck 3 — Medical bay  
\- 11:00 Hours_**

Lynette headed for the doctor's lounge, carrying a cafeteria tray laden with Yoshika's favorites. She was well aware that, when the girl applied her healing magic over an extended period of time, she became almost comatose until roused with food. The buxom Britannian smiled to herself, recalling the very first Combined Forces battle Yoshika had participated in, so many months ago now.

— —  
 _The 501st were there to provide support for the 39th Battalion, during a nasty surprise engagement with a stray collection of Neuroi 'land walkers'. Yoshika had spent almost all of her time doing triage rather than fighting since the ground battalion had lost three of their field medics and their only healer. As they flew home after the battle, she had literally fallen asleep in mid-flight. Fortunately, even back at the beginning, Lynette always had her eyes on the curious little Fuso maiden._

 _Waking Yoshika up before she could crash, and before Commander Wilcke or anyone else in the squad noticed what had happened, she overcame her then-extreme shyness and offered the new girl the bar of chocolate she happened to be carrying in her flight jacket. The blood sugar spike had been enough to keep the chestnut-haired spitfire awake until they had returned to base._

" _Rin-chan arigato! Grateful for gift of the chocolate, I am," the strange, adorable girl had said in her cute, heavily accented, broken Britannish. The beaming smile the statement had been delivered with made Lynette's heart stop beating for an instant._

" _You're…you're…you're welcome," she had stammered back, turning her face away, as she was blushing like crazy._

 _From that point on, the Britannian ace had made sure that she always carried a chocolate bar in her flight jacket. Just in case._

Spying the object of her affection sitting on a bench in the back of the lounge, Lynne couldn't help but giggle at the cuteness of the scene. Yoshika was sound asleep, head lolled back against the wall and a slight bit of drool on the corner of her mouth. Pulling a small table from the center of the room up to the bench, she carefully put the tray down took a seat next to her love, who cracked open an eyelid and gave a sleepy smile. Closing her eyes once more, she shifted her position, so she could lay on the bench and rest her head in Lynette's lap, her expression a study in contentment.

"How are you feeling?"

"Daijoubu genki desu," she responded, lifting her head slightly. "Even better now that you're here."

Rolling on her back, she gazed up at Lynne with a sober expression. "We were _really_ busy in there. On top of everything else, Lucchini-chan's injury was pretty serious. That took a lot out of me. I knew we could do it, but she was this close to having a severed artery. Honestly, I couldn't relax until we got her closed up."

She inclined her head in the direction of the young surgeon, who was currently sitting with his back to them at the opposite table. "Kessler-ihaku was amazing. He is as skilled at micro-surgery as my obaachan. And that's *yawwwn* that's really saying something."

"Shouldn't you eat?"

With that statement, Yoshika gained a bit more energy. "Oh? What did you bring me?" Popping her head up to table level, she viewed what was on the tray and her eyes went wide. "Katsudon? Yakisoba? Onigiri? Green tea? Yum! How?"

"Well, we _are_ on an Imperial Fuso ship after all. It's not _that_ surprising, is it?" Lynne giggled in response. Slipping an object from her pocket, she held it aloft as if it were a grand prize. "And for dessert…"

"A Fry's Chocolate Sandwich!" Yoshika cheered quietly, spying the distinctive navy and gold packaging. " _Yes!_ Chocolate filled with chocolate, wrapped in chocolate. Britannish chocolate is the _best_. _**So**_ decadent."

"Assuming you still have room for it, after you have eaten all of that," the older girl commented wryly.

"Didn't you know?" her love chortled happily, grabbing her chopsticks to scoop up a healthy portion of katsudon. "Fuso girls have a second stomach just for sweets."

The Britannian pilot smiled and was content to simply allow her girl to work on replenishing her spent energy. She needed time to consider how to address something that was making her feel uneasy.

* * *

 ** _\- IFS Akane: Deck 3 — Recovery Suite #6  
\- 11:10 Hours_**

The Liberion Ace and her Girl Friday were speedy. Not just the ability to move quickly, but reflexes, perception, thought processes, decision-making — all taking place in an instant, from thought to deed. The so-called 'single-synapse' state. Twelve-year-old Charlotte had been exactly like Francesca was now. Impulsive, reckless, inquisitive…extremely limited attention-span. Charlotte had tamed all of those traits by high school, through sheer force of will. And, she had some rough times getting through it.

She remembered how it felt to be so different, so out-of-synch with the rest of the world. Trying not to jitter impatiently over literally everything. Forcing yourself not to answer all the questions in class — not because you are some genius, but because your brain simply processes information so much more quickly than most people. Boredom leading to mischief leading to disaster.

People either hated you because they thought you were showing off, or avoided you because they thought you were some kind of hyperactive loon. Charlotte understood Francesca so well because she saw herself. That was why she seemed to have infinite patience with her.

"So, how are you feeling kiddo?"

"I'm okay. They did a good job. Although if it weren't for Yoshika I could probably whistle out of my thigh now," she grinned sheepishly. "Guess I really screwed up, huh?"

"I don't think so. Sometimes this stuff just happens," Charlotte quickly reassured the younger girl.

There followed a kind of awkward silence, neither one knowing what to say next. Charlotte had come with a purpose, though, and she meant to follow through with it. She owed Francesca an answer, even if it wasn't the best answer. Recent events made her realize that important stuff can't wait. And, that it's best to be honest with the people you care about most.

"Remember what I said to you after I was shot down? That we need to have a serious talk?"

She grabbed one of the chairs from the opposite side of the cabin and pulled it next to her partner's bed. For her own part, Francesca was kind of dreading this, since she knew how this conversation was most likely going to go. There was no way in hell Shirley was going to confess her love to her.

More and more, she was regretting acting so stupidly, blurting out her feelings like that. It wasn't fair to Shirley. The little Romagnan knew she had put her friend in a very awkward position. It was best, she felt, to cut her losses and let Shirley off the hook.

"It's okay… I know you don't love me that way," Francesca stated quietly.

Charlotte was silent for a moment, considering how to approach what was, at best, a morally ambiguous situation. She heaved an uncharacteristically heavy sigh.

"I didn't say that, kiddo. But, for right now… for right now, I **can't** love you. It's just not proper. I know you think I'm all cool and badass and I do whatever I please, but I still believe in right and wrong. And it's wrong for a 19-year-old to have a loving, sexual relationship with a 12-year-old."

"But I'm not…" Francesca began to protest.

"Let me finish," Charlotte said, cutting her off. "Not a lot is going to change for me in the next two years. The difference between 20 and 22 isn't much. But for you things are going to change drastically. The difference between 13 and 15 is vast."

Francesca was confused now. "So, you're saying…what are you saying?"

"What I'm saying is, even if we can't be together right now, I don't have any plans to go looking elsewhere." The redhead regarded her young friend seriously. "As ashamed of myself as I am about it, I can't deny the fact that I truly _do_ love you, Francesca Maria Raffaella Alessandra deContessa Lucchini. I love you enough that I'll wait for you."

"Shirley…" the younger girl whispered.

"What I'm saying is, if you still feel this way about me two years from now, I will gladly accept those feelings." The ginger-haired Liberion then leaned down and softly pressed her lips to Francesca's. It was a chasté kiss and it was brief, but it held a promise — a promise for the future.

And Francesca realized she could live with that.

"You _know_ I'll always have your back, Shirley. Even if we aren't a couple, we're still a team. Glamorous Shirley and the Amazing Lucchini."

A smirk came to her lips.

"What?" Charlotte questioned with a cocked eyebrow.

"Well, realistically, we don't live in a bubble. A lot of things can happen in two years."

"Yes, that's kind of where I was going with that," the redhead responded carefully. "But what's funny?"

"I was just thinking, it's not really fair. I mean, you're bi, so I have twice the competition," she laughed.

"If the pictures of your older sisters are any indication," Charlotte quipped back. "you will be forever Lolita, so I'll have to fend off twice the perverts."

"Says the professional pervert."

"You got that right, Lolita."

They laughed easily together and it felt good. It felt right. It felt normal.

"So…wow! You knew all my names. Even the 'deContessa' part."

"Oh, that. Heh, you had some kinda legal papers laying out in your room a while back. I just happened to snoop, since I'm nosey like that," the Liberion ace shot the youngster an evil grin and chuckled. "I thought it was pretty damn funny that your name is bigger than you are."

Francesca puffed her cheeks in feigned indignation, causing Charlotte to outright double over.

* * *

 ** _\- IFS Akane: Deck 3 — Doctors lounge  
\- 11:20 Hours_**

Yoshika was acting like her normal self — as jovial, quick-witted and social as ever — and that worried Lynne quite a bit. There was no pretense in her demeanor as far as she could tell. The girl wasn't faking it. When they had parted ways on the atoll, less than five hours ago, her love was still suffering from the intense aftermath of a horrifying physical and mental assault. Having had experienced something similar, she knew that Yoshika could not have recovered from that kind of violent trauma in only five hours. She had to be repressing her memories of the incident on some level.

The older girl was aware, from years of therapy, that repressing those types of memories was both a natural instinct and the wrong thing to do. Such repression creates a subconscious loop of anger and self-loathing and is the main reason that some rape and assault victims, who do not seek professional help, eventually end up taking their own lives. Lynne knew this was true because she had made a serious attempt to commit suicide when she was 13 years-old and had come frighteningly close to succeeding. Ironically, it was that incident that had finally alerted her Aunt Ellen to the full extent of her father's abuse and enabled her aunt to remove her from that environment.

At any rate, the current situation was probably alright for the short term. Assuming they lived through this battle, it would still take days before they were back home and able to get Yoshika professional psychiatric help. If she was able to function right now, it was probably best to just leave it alone. And if something bad _did_ happen, Lynne would do whatever was necessary to protect and care for this person, who was the other half of her soul.

She would have continued to dwell on it if she hadn't suddenly become aware of Yoshika's eyes upon her. The Fuso girl had stopped eating and was carefully studying her face with concern.

"Lynne, what's wrong? You look really stressed about something all of a sudden."

"No. I just… how long until Francesca can have visitors?"

"She can have them now. Other than her leg, she's fine. I healed everything else that was wrong with her and I gave her immune and adrenal systems a little boost after she came out of the anesthetic. Which she's probably getting a bit of a head-rush from, right now," the spunky brunette chuckled. "She won't be getting out of bed for at least two weeks, and she'll have to spend another two weeks in a wheelchair. After that, she'll be fine."

"That's wonderful news. I'm so relieved."

"I just hope they don't have to sedate her when we go back out there," Yoshika mused half-seriously. "I don't imagine she going to take being confined to her bed very well, while the rest of us are in the thick of it. Maybe I'd better go talk to her about that."

And there it was. Exactly what Lynette had been most afraid of.

Working as she was right now — healing people…helping them — that was part of who Yoshika was, and she was in an environment that would be unlikely to trigger any emotional backlash. But for her to even _consider_ going into battle now? No. Just… _ **no!**_ No matter how okay she _thought_ she felt, she _**wasn't**_.

"When **'we'** go back out there?" Lynne questioned with a soft voice, that belied the concern evident on her face. "Are you certain you are ready for that?"

Yoshika tensed up slightly at the question. She had gotten as far as she had today by focusing on everything else and putting the incident out of her mind completely. She knew she wasn't alright because just that gentle reminder twisted her stomach into knots. She closed her eyes for a moment and found her center.

"I kind of _have_ to be. I mean, I don't know our _exact_ situation right now, but I _**do**_ know we are at a disadvantage. I know Lucchini-chan, Eila-san, and Perrine-san are out of the picture. And I know it's going to take all of us, together, if we're to have any hope of surviving."

What Yoshika said was absolutely true. And she had that look in her eyes…a look that Lynette knew well. A look of determination that had given Lynne strength and encouragement in many a battle. The Fuso girl had already decided what she would do, and nothing would stand in her way…not even the person she loved. Lynette weighed the reality of the situation against her unreasonable wishes and decided there was no merit in having an argument she was destined to lose.

"If you are truly that determined, I shan't make a fuss," she finally answered. "And if that is the case, you had better hurry up and finish eating. We have a mission briefing at 1200. That gives you less than half an hour to splash your face, change your uniform and talk Commander Wilcke into putting you back on active duty. I will back you up, and help try to convince her, as well."

"Ariga…," Yoshika began but was cut off as Lynette placed a finger against her lips, shushing her.

"Here are my conditions. You promise me that if you get tired, or it becomes too much to handle, you will return to the ship. You _promise_ me you will not take any unnecessary risks, or pull any crazy stunts like you always do. And finally, _I_ will fly lead this time. You are going to back _**me**_ up. Agreed?"

"Oooo, strict Lynne-chan is strict," Yoshika said playfully. "Kinda sexy."

That finally lightened the mood, as the Fuso girl intended.

"Agreed?" Lynne repeated, smiling in spite of herself.

"Agreed," Yoshika assured her. "I'll be fine. Trust me."

"This isn't about trust. I trust you," the older girl stated honestly. "I'm just very very worried about you."

"I know you are. And I love you for it," Yoshika responded sincerely. "Anata, I promise…no crazy stunts or unnecessary risks. And, as soon as all this is over, I will talk to someone about what happened. I _will_ deal with it properly. Let's just get through this first, okay?"

"Ana…? Did you just call me darling?" Lynette blushed.

"Hai," the Fuso maiden winked at her. "Thought I'd try it out…see how it feels."

Giving her blushing love a peck on the cheek, Yoshika quickly finished her meal, allowing Lynne to clean up after her so she could inform Doctor Kessler of her intention to rejoin her squadron.

— — —

The young surgeon was a bit disappointed, but he had been half-expecting this. Watching while she healed her squad-mates, he saw the friendship and deep connections the Fuso girl had with them — connections that could only come from a cohesive, tightly-knit unit…a family. He hadn't been made privy to the circumstances that had kept Yoshika ship-bound, while her squadron engaged the enemy, but from what little he had gleaned of her personality, whatever was stopping her earlier was not going to stop her now.

He stood from the table to face Yoshika and was surprised when she took a kneeling position before him, bending forward from her waist, palms down on the floor in front of her body, with the fingers facing. A Shin bow, Kessler knew, was performed to show gratitude and respect to an admired teacher or superior. This was Yoshika's way of conveying how grateful she was, for all that the major had done for herself and her friends.

"Major Kessler arigato gozaimasu. It was an honor to assist you, and quite an education as well, sir."

"Ha, I should be thanking _you._ I got quite the education myself," the young surgeon responded breezily. "And by the way…" he added with a mischievous grin, "…what's with the 'Major' stuff? I told you to call me…"

"Sir," she cut him off, "I will _**not**_ call you 'Kessler-kun'! It would not only be against regulations, it would be very embarrassing." she deadpanned, containing her laughter.

"Only embarrassing for you, though," he winked. "Well, at any rate, thanks again for your help. You have a bright future to look forward to, Sergeant," the major stated confidently, giving her a firm handshake and large grin. "Now, just to make sure… you _do_ intend to go on to medical school after you've finished your tour of duty, correct?"

"Yes, sir. It is my dream to someday take over our family's medical clinic. Although, it will be a long time before I can ever hope to measure up to my okaasan and obaachan."

"Probably not as long as you may think. Listen, when you start applying, you are more than welcome to use me as a professional _and_ personal reference. And, if you apply to either Harvard University in the US or Heidelberg-Mannheim in Karlsland, I will write a personal recommendation to the Department Chairs."

"Sir, I-I don't know what to say…"

"Say that you're going to win this battle and that we can finish this discussion on our way to take you guys home. Come find me when this is all over, alright?"

"Yes, sir," came the confident answer. "I will, sir. Promise."

Leaving the medical bay, Yoshika reflected on how right it felt being in that operating room, how good it felt helping people, and how much she was looking forward to a future in medicine.

But for right now, that was not where she belonged.

She was a proud member of the Strike Witches, and it was there, by their sides, that she belonged. Stand or fall, she would do it with her friends.


	17. Noblesse Oblige

**A/N:** Welcome back. Please enjoy this chapter.  
"Strike Witches hajimaru yo."

 **Noblesse Oblige**

* * *

"La vraie bravoure est montrée en exécutant sans témoin ce que l'on pourrait être capable de faire avant tout le monde"* ~ François de la Rochefoucauld  
* _"_ _True bravery is shown by performing without witness what one might be capable of doing before all the world"_

 ** _\- IFS Akane: Flight Deck A — Ready room  
\- 11:45 Hours_**

Yoshika and Lynne found Commander Wilcke in a duty office, just off the flight deck — head buried in a stack of diagrams and charts, pencil tapping against the desk in a syncopated staccato.

"Commander Minna?"

The Strike Witches leader didn't need to see the face or even place the voice. There was only one person who called her 'Commander Minna'. When the Fuso pilot first joined the squad, she was wholly unable to pronounce 'Wilcke' or even make a close approximation. So 'Commander Minna' it had become. She was fairly certain Yoshika could properly pronounce it by now, but it would just sound weird coming from her at this point, so she had never pressed the matter.

"Sergeant Miyafuji, I was going to come find you after the briefing. I understand you did some outstanding work today. And you saved the lives of both Lieutenant Juutilainen and Ensign Lucchini. Thank you."

"Ano," Yoshika muttered in embarrassment "I helped ma'am, but I certainly didn't do it on my own."

"Without you there, things would not have gone as smoothly. I was told exactly what happened with Lucchini. If not for your assistance, she would most likely have died. I'm very grateful you were there." The commander placed her pencil down and turned fully away from the desk to face the young pilot. "Is everything alright? Can I help you with something?"

"Yes, ma'am. I request permission to return to duty."

That was certainly a surprise. Minna didn't know the _intimate_ details of Yoshika's injury, but she knew enough to understand that, even if there was little to no physical damage, there had been serious psychological damage inflicted, that would take a long time to fully heal.

"I appreciate the offer Sergeant, but I think it would be better all around if you remain on the ship. You can still work in sickbay if you wish, of course. I know they would be happy to have you."

"Ma'am, with respect, you need me. They don't. There are two other healers onboard. We have three of our own squad out of commission. I may not be 100%, but I can pull my own weight," Yoshika reasoned. "You _need_ me."

Minna glanced at Lynette as she digested Yoshika's words. The Britannian girl nodded a 'yes', although she looked oddly distressed. Studying Yoshika's expression carefully, she could see some of the girl's usual fire re-ignited in her eyes. She also took into consideration the Fuso healer's actions today. She seemed functional, both mentally and physically. Functional enough to get by, at least. They couldn't really afford to have _anyone_ sit this battle out. The Karlsland commander sighed deeply and reluctantly relented.

"Very well. If you truly believe you are able to fight, I'll allow it. On the understanding that if it turns out you can't, for whatever reason — physical or emotional —you will return here immediately. Not only for your own sake but for your squad-mates as well. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am! I understand."

Minna stood and Yoshika came to attention. "Sergeant Yoshika Miyafuji, you are hereby authorized to return to active duty. Report to your squadron, Sergeant."

The Fuso pilot saluted her superior. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am. You won't regret it"

"Make sure that I don't," Minna answered seriously, returning the salute. "Dismissed."

Yoshika turned to leave but as she exited, the commander suddenly called out to her.

"Oh, wait. Miyafuji, Clostermann asked to speak with you. Why don't you go do that now? We're going to be starting a little late anyway. I'm still waiting for Lieutenant Aisaka's division to deliver their analysis charts. Besides, the Major is still busy with the _Akane_ pilots, getting some details sorted."

"Okay, commander," the brunette ace acknowledged. "I'll do that right away."

* * *

Yoshika led Lynette by the hand, heading towards the recovery suites. The Britannian girl was working up the courage to tell her love that she didn't _want_ to visit with Perrine. She was afraid that, if she did, she _herself_ might be the one who would start an altercation. She was still very angry about the Gallian pilot's actions and words earlier on the atoll.

Lynette had wondered, for a while now, what Perrine's problem with Yoshika was in the first place. She had never been able to figure it out.

Perrine and herself had joined the 501st at roughly the same time. They had shared quarters briefly, while both the base itself, and the membership of the 501st, was being expanded. Through that shared experience they ended up befriending one another. Although aspects of their personalities were different, they shared many similarities as well. Both were quiet, private individuals, rarely given to socializing. Both were of noble birth — with all of the privileges and responsibilities that entails. And, while Perrine could seem emotionally cold to people, she had always treated everyone with respect. Until the arrival of Yoshika Miyafuji.

The high-born Gallian had been confrontational with Yoshika from day one, calling her naive for her pacifistic nature, and insisting she return to her 'provincial little village'. Instead of being reserved and stand-offish, like she was with the others, Perrine seemed to delight in tormenting the new arrival, even going out of her way to create conflict. A lot of it was just petty nonsense, and it never made sense to Lynette why it was so. It was as if Yoshika brought out Perrine's worst nature.

Why would Perrine want to talk Yoshika? Surely she couldn't be looking to harass Yoshika _now_ …not under these circumstances…not after everything that had happened today. Her brave, beloved soulmate was pushing herself so _hard_ — dealing with so much. Having to listen to Perrine's childish nonsense right now was the last thing she needed.

Her body trembled with anger as she replayed the scene in her mind. _"So, the Great Miyafuji isn't so great after all."_ She balled her free hand into a fist, brow contorting in rage. So lost in thought that she didn't even notice they had stopped walking until she felt the tiny Fuso maiden grab her by the shoulders.

"Lynne? Lynne, daijoubu?" Yoshika asked with concern. "What's the matter? I've never seen you like this. You look so… _angry_."

"N-no. You are wrong," she stammered, "Nothing is the matter."

Yoshika fixed her with a knowing look. "You really are bad at telling lies, your emotions are written all over your face." Then smiling, she added, "You should avoid card games."

With that, the angry expression became one of mild embarrassment. She let out a quiet laugh, in spite of herself. Her little Fuso maiden always knew how to lighten her mood.

"Alright, I will admit I _am_ a bit upset."

"About…?"

"…Perrine…"

"Ah! _Now_ I get it," Yoshika relaxed considerably. "I thought you were mad at _me_ about something."

"No. Just her. Especially after this morning," the Britannian grumped. "Sometimes, I wonder why I'm her friend at all."

"Because she isn't a bad person," Yoshika concluded kindly. "She just really doesn't like me for some reason. I wish I knew why. My okaasan could probably figure it out after talking to her for 10 minutes, but I simply don't have a clue."

"Your mother has a degree in psychology, correct?" Lynne asked suddenly, veering off the subject at hand. "Can you talk to her about…umm, you know…what happened?"

"Oh, that," she acknowledged, shaking her head. "No. That isn't a good idea. I'm sure she would agree with me. It really isn't wise to psychoanalyze family members…or _anyone_ emotionally close, for that matter. It's an art that requires a subjective touch. In fact, she told me I shouldn't consider it as a course of study, as I would have no affinity for it," she rubbed the back of her head in embarrassment. "I get too involved."

"I have no doubt about that," Lynne responded with a loving smile.

"If something like this had happened a year ago, I may have asked her advice on who to talk to, but now I will figure that out on my own." Yoshika intoned, resting her forehead against Lynette's own, "I may still be young, but I _am_ a grown-up now. And, if I'm troubled by anything, I'm not going to run to my mommy…I'm going to run to you."

Lynne couldn't think of anything clever or meaningful to say. So instead, she impulsively drew the younger girl close and kissed her. Yoshika smiled into the kiss and returned it with equal fervor. They spent a few precious minutes kanoodling in the secluded companionway until Lynette finally had to draw back and take a breath.

"Wow," she muttered. "and we get to do that all the time from now on, huh?"

"Hai," Yoshika giggled playfully. "I'm looking forward to it."

The Fuso girl was glad they had this moment alone. Just being with the girl she loved smoothed out all of the rough edges in her soul and sharpened her focus once more. She was now eager to get this show on the road and beat the enemy. They were interfering with her and Lynette's alone time and, to her, that was more than enough reason to kick some evil, jerk-asses through the black torii.

"Look, let me go see Perrine-san by myself. I'll be fine. I won't let her get to me, even though she seems to know how to push my buttons. Why not head on back and let everyone know I'm back on the job. Maybe they'll be less overwhelming in their welcome if they know I'm coming, ahead of time."

* * *

 ** _\- IFS Akane: Deck 3 — Medical bay  
\- Recovery suite #2 — 12:15 Hours_**

Perrine H. Clostermann — former Pilot Officer of the Forces Aériennes Galliaises Libres' 602nd Flying Corps, current Flight Officer of the Combined Allied Air Force's 501st Joint Fighter Wing — lay in her bed, bored off her ass. Where the hell _was_ Miyafuji anyway, damn it? She was sure the major relayed her request, although she had given the Gallian pilot an odd look when she made it.

Her gaze lingered on her rapier, which was sheathed and hanging on a coat tree in the corner of the cabin. A shaft of sunlight, streaming through the porthole, caught the exposed hilt of the blade, reflecting a golden glow. A dimmer glow emanated from the gold leaf inscription, pounded into the leather scabbard and running the length of it. It was a quote from 17th century Gallian writer François de la Rochefoucauld, a contemporary of the Marquis du Clostermann, her paternal ancestor. _'La_ _vraie_ _bravoure_ _est_ _montrée_ _en_ _exécutant_ _sans_ _témoin_ _ce_ _que_ _l'on_ _pourrait_ _être capable de faire avant tout_ _le_ _monde._ _'_ In Britannish, it translated as 'True bravery is shown by performing without witness what one might be capable of doing before all the world.'

More than a weapon, it was a family heirloom — one of a very few remaining heirlooms of the once-wealthy Clostermann vicomté. And she, it's last remaining heir. The family estate, the vineyards, and the families living and working the land…all these were now hers — as was the responsibility that stemmed from them. At this point, she had liquidated most of the family's heirlooms and assets, in order to care for those in her employ, as well as repair some of the local infrastructure that had been damaged or destroyed in the Neuroi aggression. And, of course, feeding, clothing, and housing close to a dozen children who had been left parentless and homeless.

Nobody else needed to know any of this, though. It was, quite frankly, none of their business.

She glanced up, hearing a light tapping on the frame of the open door, and saw Yoshika peeking her head in sideways.

"Perrine-san, may I come in?"

The Gallian pilot nodded and motioned her to enter. Yoshika waited expectantly for Perrine to tell her what she wanted, but the blonde aristocrat just stared at her for an extended period of time, the atmosphere growing thicker by the moment. Yoshika finally broke the uncomfortable silence.

"Commander Minna said you asked to see me?"

"That's right," Perrine acknowledged. "They patched me up well enough, but between the blood loss and the entry wound, they won't certify me for active duty. I was hoping you would finish the job so I can return to our unit. Will you?"

"Are you okay that it's me?" Yoshika asked carefully, knowing she wasn't one of Perrine's favorite people. "If you'd rather someone else, I know their Lieutenant Winters can do just as good a job as I can."

"They already offered me her services." the Gallian answered shortly. "I would prefer yours."

The statement surprised Yoshika, although she didn't allow her expression to convey that. She was actually kind of happy that Perrine trusted her that much, considering her ongoing, quite vocal, disparagement. Although it was understandable. Magical healing can be an intimate process, so it made sense that Perrine would rather have Yoshika do it than some random stranger.

" _It isn't trust, exactly,"_ the Fuso maiden thought to herself. _"But I'll take what I can get, I suppose."_

"Alright then. I'd be happy to help you Perrine-san. I'll do my best." Yoshika responded brightly. "Are you ready right now?"

"If it isn't too much trouble." the Gallian girl responded, her voice containing a touch of haughtiness — but not as much as usual. It was pretty obvious she was consciously dialing back on her attitude.

"No trouble at all. Let's get you back on your feet, shall we."

Gathering her magic and clearing her thoughts, Yoshika began her work. The bullet had gone through clean, somehow missing every vital organ. The wound had been sterilized and dressed, but beyond that there was little more the doctors could do to treat her. There was swelling around the entry and exit wounds from the damaged muscle tissue, as well as internally. All of that could be dealt with fairly easily. This would be simple in comparison to the injuries she had tended to earlier.

It took less than 10 minutes for the young healer to complete her task. She felt satisfaction at another job well done, although that was muted slightly upon studying her patient's expression. It didn't look like physical discomfort, but there was something odd about the girl's demeanor. She looked semi-detached as if lost in thought.

"Is something wrong?" Yoshika asked carefully. "Do you feel unwell?"

"What?" Perrine looked up, startled. "Oh. No. No, everything seems fine. Nice work."

Again, just like when Yoshika had entered the room, there was an extended silence that grew more and more uncomfortable. It really looked as if the Gallian ace had something more to say but just wouldn't or couldn't say it. Finally, Yoshika decided to end the stalemate. If Perrine had something to say to her, it could wait until later. At the moment, she had other things to do.

"I'll go let the staff know I treated you, okay?" she said in a kind voice, turning to leave. "Someone should come by soon to re-evaluate you and sign off on your release."

" **Wait!** " Perrine shouted suddenly. Yoshika stopped short and turned to regard her fellow pilot with a surprised expression.

"Listen, Miyafuji…no…Yoshika. Listen, Yoshika. I want to say I'm sorry. It's just…I've been doing a lot of thinking. I… know that I treat you badly. And I know you've done nothing to deserve it."

The Gallian ace paused for a moment, looking downward, but then lifted her gaze to meet Yoshika's and forced herself to continue on. She had rehearsed all this in her head but, Gods, it was so hard to just come out and say it.

"Lynette was right. I think maybe I _do_ envy you. I _am_ jealous of you. I'm jealous of how carefree you are. I'm jealous of how you always seem so confident, even when you have no reason to be. I'm jealous of how freely you speak your mind and how easily you seem to make friends and how you often do as you please without getting into trouble for it and…and…and…"

"And Sakamoto-san, right?" Yoshika asked gently.

"Y-yeah. I thought…I thought that you two were…I don't know…"

"Sakamoto-san is my senpai. I love her, but not that kind of love. More like a familial love. That's just how we are in my country with our seniors and our teachers — people that we admire and look up to. I want Sakamoto-san to be proud of me because she saw something in me and took an interest in me. She has done her best to teach me and take care of me. Someday, if I am lucky, I will have a precious kohai to teach and to take care of and I will do the same. Pay it forward, as the Liberions say."

"Besides" she continued softly. "Lynette is the one I love. She's the only one for me."

Perrine finally smiled. It was warm and it was real.

"For what it's worth, I know that she feels the same way about you. She adores you."

Yoshika returned the smile and nodded. "Hai."

"I really am glad for both of you," Perrine answered softly.

She truly _was_ glad. The Gallian noble had been the first to become aware of the growing infatuation that her Britannian squad-mate had been feeling for the little Fuso girl over the past few months.

Perrine was, for her own reasons, intentionally standoffish with her fellow squad members. She had been with them for close to 18 months now and everyone knew that, although they could rely on her, she wasn't going to be joining the rest of them at the Officers Club anytime soon. However, if Perrine had to name one person on base that she considered a friend, that person would be Lynette. If she wanted to continue being friends with her, she knew that she had to make things right between herself and Yoshika.

"I know it's asking a lot from you," she said somewhat timidly. "but could you find it in your heart to forgive me? Could I start over? Could _we_ start over? I'd like to be your friend if you will still have me as one."

Yoshika broke into a dazzling grin and took the older girl's hand in both of her own. "Of course, Perrine-san. There's nothing to forgive. And I already think of you as my friend."

The Gallian's eyes grew bright with unshed tears at that statement.

" _Jeez, this girl…"_ she smiled weakly, giving a trembling laugh that threatened to turn into a major emotional moment. Yoshika decided to bring her in for a hug, so the flustered blonde aristocrat didn't need to feel the need to say anything more.

It only took a minute or so for the Gallian to regain her composure. Yoshika felt the tension leave the older girl's body and, when she drew back, the young noblewoman once again looked like her normal self — only now without the tsunderé attitude that Yoshika had long-ago noticed was a projected part of herself. This was Perrine Clostermann with her guard down and her true personality showing. A personality Yoshika had known was there all along. That was why she had never taken many of Perrine's jibes to heart. She was aware it was part of the Gallian girl's mask.

"Yoshika. Thank you for helping me. And for giving me another chance."

"Perrine-san dō itashi mashite." * _You're welcome Perrine-san_ *

After Yoshika had left the room, Perrine let out a sigh of relief. This matter had been weighing her down even before Lynette had slapped her senseless back on the atoll. She planned to apologize to Lynne as well, for her uncaring words. She chuckled to herself imagining the embarrassed, flustered reaction she would receive from her Britannian friend.

Or then again, maybe not.

Lynne seemed to have changed quite a bit in the month she had been on the road. Not just the slap and the chewing-out. Her combat style had changed significantly, and she carried herself much more confidently than Perrine had ever seen. If all that was a result of Yoshika's influence, then more power to her.

However, she felt that that was only part of it. Yoshika had been seriously injured (Perrine was still kicking herself over all that stuff she spewed thoughtlessly) and Lynette had not only cared for her and protected her, she had held her own against a massively overpowered foe.

" _The power of love,"_ she reflected, _"truly is an awesome thing."_


End file.
